I had a wonderful, relaxing and refreshing time on vacation last week. It was so great spending time with the two people I care about most in this world. We had nowhere to be and no schedule to follow.

I’ve shared the entire album with my Friends Circle over on Google+, but here are a few I feel comfortable sharing here:

For the past few months, leading up to my thirty-third birthday, I’ve worked to make several incremental changes in my life. These changes are intended to be small behavioral adaptations to my daily routine that positively impact my health and happiness, while aligning with my personal philosophy of simplicity and minimalism.

As of this writing, the incremental changes I’ve implemented are as follows:

1) Begin rising early.
2) De-clutter where possible.
3) Establish daily exercise and strength training regimens.
4) Establish a daily creative regimen.
5) Eat more fruit and vegetables.
6) Spend less time working and more time with family.
7) Spend less time on social networking and more time with family.
8) Map and benchmark progress daily.

In a series of future posts, I plan to delve deeper into how each of these eight guiding principles has led me to a healthier lifestyle grounded in minimalism. I also hope to share metrics on how the changes have helped me achieve more tactical, personal life goals.

The results so far have been wonderful.

Last Known Surroundings from Explosions in the Sky. I saw them live a few months ago and thought they were absolutely amazing. This animated video, produced by Ptarmak, is tops.

I loved collecting records as a teenager. I would make weekly pilgrimages to Siren Records to pick up the obscure 7” or latest LP on 180 gram colored vinyl. I would make decisions based on word of mouth, often times purchasing a record sight-unseen and sound-unheard.

Jawbreaker’s Dear You. The Polyvinyl Records Post-Marked Stamp series. Countless other classics.

Sometimes the desired record would be so hard to find or in such limited distribution, my small town record store wouldn’t have it so I’d drive to New York or Philadelphia in order to add the piece to my collection. Sadly, the hobby has gotten away from me in recent years, likely due to the advent of the MP3.

The electronic age is strange bedfellow. I’ve been pondering the artistic discovery process lately, particularly how discovery of art in the digital age differs from the analog years.

Bear with me here. In no way do I mean this to be condescending or holier-than-thou, but I feel like people don’t need to work for their art anymore. Information is so free and accessible, the processes for both creation and consumption have become completely democratized.

Those of you who know me know that I believe this is a good thing. However, I feel like its affecting the level to which fans are engaged with the art.

I’m not talking about engagement with the artist or musician here. Twitter and Facebook are doing a good job with facilitating that — more so than anything that occurred in the analog era. I’m talking about engagement with the art itself. When I say engagement, I mean true engagement. I don’t mean it in the Web 2.0 jargon sense of the word.

What I’m struggling with here is the idea that I can have virtually any piece of art I desire at the push of a button. Case and point: the new Bon Iver record, released yesterday. The first thing I did in the morning was grab my iPad to instantly stream it on Rdio. I never even got out of my pajamas. In the analog era, I would have at least had to put some pants on.

Does my ability to obtain a record any record I desire at the moment I desire it affect my connection with and investment in the work? On some level, I have to think it does.

I miss putting a little bit of effort into my artistic discovery. I miss hearing about a band from a friend and searching high and low for the record, sometimes for weeks. I miss digging through the dust of the milk crate full of 45s to take a chance on one with a rad cover, only to have it become one of my favorite records of all-time.

Do these types of experiences still exist in the digital age? Or does all our effort and risk lie in the index finger’s click of the mouse?