Blaak Museum Reader —
I don’t typically start off in my feelings but I’m an INFP for my fellow Myers Briggs nerds.
That mean’s I’m the snobby artsy type who tells other non-artsies what true art looks like.
Years back, our boy Prince put on a show to end all live musical performances. Back in 1999 I think.
Before Prince starts singing Purple Rain, he says…
Time
Time is a trick
How many birth days did you have? One
You had one day of birth
You continue to count birthdays.
Your mind gives up and your body deteriorates.
This is the trick of time.
Anyway, his Paisley Park performance of Purple Rain, Prince-Heads described as a religious experience.
I find religious experiences are measured in meaning not making millions.
*Couch* Aaron Marino
Last night at precisely 3:27 a.m. (thx insomnia) well, technically early this morning — I caught myself watching another Youtube video. This particular video unfolded like a Tennessee Williams play staged in a Restoration Hardware showroom.
My Main Man: Aaron Marino, better known as Alpha M. If you’ve followed the men’s self improvement Youtube space over the last decade, you know Aaron. He’s a little guy with perfect hair and a T-rex sized voice, greeting every video with jittery Pomeranian energy hopped up on chocolate cake and Red Bull.
I’ve watched his content since his early, early days, back before high definition. His energy could electrify Ottawa in December, which clashes spectacularly with my natural state: A steady flow somewhere between “meh” and “quietly contemplative,” with occasional ADHD lighting strikes, of course.
His latest video starts innocently enough with a tour of his GINORMOUS, custom-built home. The kind of place Caligula might tip his golden leaf crown to. The kind of place that makes you wonder if the Property Brothers waved their matching twin hands and whispered, “Shazammmm!”
(Are they twins? I’ve never bothered to Google…)
It wasn’t the house that snagged my attention, nor the strategically perched animal paintings. No, it was the haunting emptiness swimming in Aaron’s eyes as he paraded (MTV Cribs Style) what mega-bucks can buy.
I’ve watched tons of his videos and never once saw this side of him.
Around the four minute mark, something unexpected erupts. WATCH HIS EYES. The human equivalent of a kid’s bouncy house slowly deflates.
“This was a hard year,” he confesses, staring into the void like someone who’s just discovered they’ve architected their dream prison.
He laments about eCommerce struggles, skyrocketing ad costs, plummeting profits, supply cain nightmares. WATCH HIS SOUL, you can see it escaping slowly through his nostrils.
Meanwhile, my 90 year old, $250k North Carolina house with tree roots growing into sewer pipes sparkles far more valuable than Aaron’s six-million subscriber empire, two skincare lines, and sprawling Caligula Crib.
The irony isn’t lost on me. Here slouches a man with an audience large enough to populate a small by nice island country, yet those subscribers seem as valuable as my collection of old National Geographic magazines — sentimental, yes, but not exactly currency.
Aaron’s business model? It’s the high maintenance relationship of the eCom entrepreneurial world. It craves constant feeding — sometimes through paid ads. Depending on how you build your brand. Turn off the ad spend, and the whole empire crumbles faster than Caligula’s Jenga tower.
Slouching here in my un-custom home that will never be featured on MTV cribs, sporting the kind of under-eye bags that Tyson's ankles probably screamed with after the Jake Paul fight, a thought arose: Maybe true luxury isn't measured by square footage or profit margins. Maybe it breathes in building a business that nourishes your soul—a business anchored in beliefs, propelled by a strong why.
What if the business was some sort of religious experience for those it serves.
For those of us stumbling through this solo/entrepreneurial journey (and yes, I'm mostly preaching to myself here), Aaron's story glows less like a North Star and more like a warning beacon shrieking, "NOT THIS WAY!" The path to a soulful, meaningful business isn’t paced with endless ads and ever-thinning margins. It’s carved by purpose, patience, and an obsessive hunger to serve people first.
So, here’s my challenge for the week: to carve out my why — not in terms of what I want to build, but who I want to become. I dare you to join me in this reflection.
Whether time is a trick or not I don’t know. All I know is, I prefer to use my time creating meaning, making soul.
P.S. I’m not hating on Alpha M — nope, never. I’m just confessing, as a new entrepreneur, I’m more seduced by businesses built on unshakeable purpose. We’ll dice into this next time — it’s about my friend Virgil. — rest in peace V. Stay tuned.