By Den McHenry

27 May 2026

Walt, my guy! I also contain multitudes.

It's long past time I stop compartmentalizing my life and being anonymous in all directions. I'm a web developer, but I'm also an artist and a classicist. I've forgotten more about Greek verbs, metrics and prosody than some of my professors ever knew, and you know what? I'm happier as a dilettante than whatever they expected me to be in those days.

I'm also an artist, and I'm going to stop waiting for the right time to put it out there. So here comes the dabbling. Starting with a new section on the site: drawings.

Because I contain multitudes:

Song of Myself, 51 (Walt Whitman)

The past and present wilt—I have fill’d them, emptied them.
And proceed to fill my next fold of the future.

Listener up there! what have you to confide to me?
Look in my face while I snuff the sidle of evening,
(Talk honestly, no one else hears you, and I stay only a minute longer.)

Do I contradict myself?
Very well then I contradict myself,
(I am large, I contain multitudes.)

I concentrate toward them that are nigh, I wait on the door-slab.

Who has done his day’s work? who will soonest be through with his supper?
Who wishes to walk with me?

Will you speak before I am gone? will you prove already too late?