You will never be perfect,
but you can always be better.
A Morning with Warren Buffett
In June, Chelsea and I flew from Tallahassee to Omaha to spend a morning with Warren Buffett.
We were there for a client project. Chelsea was producing a video interview, and I went in hoping that I might have a chance to capture his portrait. I had no idea if it would actually happen. Honestly, there was a point where we weren't sure the interview itself was going to happen. But we were already on the plane, so we decided to roll with whatever came next.
The next morning, we made our way to the top floor of Blackstone Plaza, which is the building that's been home to Berkshire Hathaway since the 1960s. The Cloud Room is a beautiful space, panoramic views of Omaha stretching out in every direction. The kind of room you walk into and immediately start imagining how you'd recreate it someday.
Mr. Buffett's assistant Debbie met us there.
Now, an assistant can often get overlooked in the chaos of scheduling. But it's a role I've always found fascinating. They're there for the ins and outs, the scheduling chaos, the real-life moments behind what everyone else gets to see. Debbie has been with Mr. Buffett for 51 years. She started when she was 17 years old. She kept joking that she needs him to retire so she can retire.
Fifty-one years. Let that sit for a moment.
When Mr. Buffett arrived, Debbie escorted him into the room and headed back down to the office, asking us to take good care of him. He walked around, introduced himself, shook hands with each of us. And then we sat down and spent the next two hours in conversation.
And yes, Debbie made sure that there was a chilled Coca-Cola glass and a bottle of Cherry Coke waiting for him when he arrived. It was every bit as surreal as you'd imagine. I joked to Chelsea afterward that maybe I should rename our project "100 Coffees and a Cherry Coke."
What I Expected vs What I Learned
I didn't grow up with investing-savvy parents. I didn't do deep research on Mr. Buffett before we arrived. But like most people, I'd heard the stories: the legendary investor, the Oracle of Omaha, one of the most successful businessmen to ever live. So I went into that room expecting a big “aha” moment. Some profound one-liner that would be poster-worthy. Something that would transform everything.
That's not what I got.
On the flight home, friends and family started asking: How was Warren? What was he like? Were the stories of his humility true?
And then came the big question: What was the takeaway? I kept searching my recollection of the conversation for the gem. At first, I thought I'd missed it. I replayed moments in my head, waiting for something to surface. But the more I reflected, the more I realized… there wasn't one.
And that was the point.
What stood out wasn't a single quote. It was his consistency.
The same assistant for 51 years. The same routine. The house he’s lived in, a few minutes from his office, for decades. The Cherry Coke. The principles he's held since he started in business.
Throughout the conversation, he shared different stories, but the themes never shifted based on what was trendy or important at any given time. He talked about passion over pedigree. He talked about looking for the job you would take if you didn't need a job. He talked about trusting your people: "We delegate to the point of abdication."
One thing I appreciated was the way he valued relationships. He never took all the credit. He always shared how the people around him (friends, partners, mentors) had shaped his journey.
At one point, he asked us a few times if we'd hire him. We joked that the daily commute to Tallahassee might be a bit much for someone his age.
His demeanor was even-keel and joyful the entire time. No performance. No pretense. He didn't take himself too seriously, even though he's one of the most successful businessmen to ever live. He was just a man whose way of being never wavered from the first minute to the last.
THE PORTRAITS
Portraits are one of my favorite things to create. There's something sacred about them. A single frame that holds a person still long enough for us to really see them.
I went in wanting to capture his portrait, but I had no idea if it would actually happen. Mr. Buffett was 94 at the time. Knowing he had recently announced his retirement, the idea of capturing his portrait in his final year as chairman of Berkshire Hathaway felt like an incredible honor.
After the interview wrapped, I asked if it would be okay for me to take a few portraits. He lit up. "Of course," he said. Then he asked me how he should pose and what expressions I was looking for.
I didn't have a specific vision. It was a quick moment, an opportunity to create something special. What surprised me most was how coachable he was. At 94 years old, he took direction from a photographer he'd never met. He posed patiently, and made sure I was happy with what I captured before we wrapped up.
That showed me something about his character: his respect for talent and craft, no matter who's behind the camera. He smiled, and his demeanor showed a sense of joy, consistent with the way he had interacted with us throughout the morning.
Chelsea and I approach every photoshoot understanding that everyone is human. Mr. Buffett is a father. I'm a dad of three. Connecting on the human level is what creates incredible images. While we often work with people in prominent positions, we always want to push a little to bring out elements of humanity.
We say it all the time: authentic is better than perfect, seven days a week.
For the photography nerds: I captured the portraits with a Canon R5 Mark II and a 50mm 1.4 VCM lens. For lighting, we used an Aputure LS 600d with a 5-foot dome softbox that we'd already set up for the video interview. We had a Profoto B10x Plus strobe ready to go, but with no time to test the light, we went with what was already there. Better gear doesn't make you a better artist — but it does make you a more consistent one. You're removing inconsistent technology from the equation.
After we packed up our gear, Mr. Buffett asked if we could take a photo together. A big thank you to Chelsea for capturing that photo along with some BTS.
Marriage, fatherhood, entrepreneurship. None of it is a sprint. It's a marathon. In his final shareholder letter this fall, Mr. Buffett wrote:
"You will never be perfect, but you can always be better."
That line has stayed with me. And I know there are ways I can be better. More consistent. I know it's often hard to devote time to being a better human. There's guilt that comes with it: the sense that you should be doing something else, giving your time to someone else. But Chelsea and I have always believed that I can't be a better husband and father unless I'm a better man. And she can't be a better wife and mother unless she's a better woman.
It starts there.
The revenue from our business allows me to create. But I also need to devote time to create in order to get better at my craft. One feeds the other. Neither works alone.
I'm grateful for that morning in the Cloud Room.
Not for a single quote, but for a way of being.
Here's to a consistent 2026.
— Alex
I turn 40 in September.
Going into the last year of my 30s has me reflecting on the wins of this past decade, but also on the areas where I want to grow.
Consistency is such a challenge when technology is pulling us in so many directions. There are so many gateways of communication now. So many pings and notifications and threads demanding attention. I hope, in this next year, to be more intentional about the way I communicate, to my wife, to my kids, to my clients, while keeping a healthy understanding of the order of importance.
Chelsea and I have been married for almost 12 years. We've worked together since we were dating. In that time, we've learned how each other thinks and operates. She knows what I'm going to say before I say it. Knows what I need before I bring it up.
I can't imagine what 51 years of that kind of partnership looks like.
But watching Debbie and Mr. Buffett, I got a glimpse.
