I saw it in a beta store in San Francisco. It felt like a prototype — because it was. The first version of the reMarkable, before anyone knew what it would become. I bought it anyway.

Eight years later, it goes everywhere I go. From the Quebrada de Humahuaca in the Argentine Andes to the Seattle waterfront to the Vienna canal. Not because I carry it out of habit. Because all my thoughts are on it.

"You will probably never see me without it. It's one thing that I almost all the time have with me because basically all my thoughts are on there — and I can read on it."

The ReAct paper — the paper I read in the Austrian mountains that changed how I understood AI — I read it here. On this device. Then I went outside into the cold and talked to myself for an hour.

The best thinking does not happen in front of a screen. It happens in motion, in quiet, in the space between tasks. The reMarkable is the place where that thinking gets captured — before it becomes a file, before it becomes a prompt, before an agent can act on it.

My personal OKRs live here. Not in an app. Not in a document. On paper I can hold. When I want to make a change, I draw an arrow. When something is done, I cross it through. The hand engages the mind in a way that typing does not.

I travel with dozens of books on it. On long bike rides, on planes, at altitude in the Andes. The same device I use to sketch out strategy is the one I read on. No carrying extra weight. No decision about which books to bring.

"It is always next to my bed — whenever I have a thought, I put it down. That is important: to get rid of everything in your head, to clear up space. This is really what the reMarkable is for."