What To Do if You Notice Something is Missing

and other ways to build a community

One of my favorite lyrics is from the song ‘When My Time Comes’ by the band Dawes: ‘you can judge the whole world on the sparkle that you think it lacks’.

I often find myself returning to this. It can be easy to notice what’s missing in our towns or communities. Perhaps it’s part of a larger pattern—systemic, cyclical, or deeply ingrained. Or maybe, when we notice something that could be more, it’s because we are the ones meant to bring it to life. Maybe that sense of absence isn’t just an observation, but an invitation.

I don’t believe this always means immediately taking on a grand project or something entirely new (although, if that inspires you, run with it). It can be as simple as a shift in perspectives, conversations that spark ideas.

And so I come to you with open hands. This is the heartbeat behind what is done. It’s why I tell stories, why I take photos, why I seek to cultivate spaces for people to come together.

The Wednesday Ride started with just a few of us on bikes and an idea. In 2022, my coffee shop regulars Cam & Lauren walked in and said “we’re thinking about starting a social ride here in Colorado Springs.”
I said ‘heck yeah’. (I’d never been on a social ride. At that time, I didn’t even have a bike).

The first ride was just four of us. Flash forward to 2024, we consistently saw 30-40 show up (with one ride even numbering 70) pedaling through the city for the joy of movement and connection. It’s grown into something so much bigger—a space where people find community, where total strangers become friends, where we remember what it feels like to be a kid again. That’s the magic of putting an idea into motion.

When Cam and Lauren left in 2023, they passed the torch to me and Mick. We said, “Okay, we’ll going—but only if people keep showing up.” And they did. Because what I hadn’t realized was that COS needed this. It all started because Cam and Lauren had the idea—they made it real.

This is just one of the things that has drastically reshaped my perspective on what it means to build something with others. It taught me about stepping up, about finding my voice as a leader in ways I never expected (or even thought I wanted).

I keep noticing this. When my friend Jacob saw some of our city’s mountain bike trails weren’t quite up to the level he’s ridden other places, he didn’t complain—he started building better trails himself. He’s changed my perspective, and countless others, on what our trails could be. What we didn’t even know we were missing.

The list goes on and on. The momentum follows those willing to take the first step.

Showing up, starting the conversation -or just starting the thing- is half the battle. And it also happens to be the most perfect place to start.

This is about working a creative muscle, an artistic case study on life and community in motion. I’m pulling visual cues, light and shadows and the curve of growing things.

To continue being alive is also an art.