There is a version of this website that lists every project I have ever worked on, in reverse chronological order, with thumbnails and tags and a search box that nobody will use. I built that site twice. Both times I deleted it before it went live, and both times for the same reason: it was a résumé pretending to be a home.
What you're reading now is the third attempt. It has six bits of text, a cursor that writes itself across the page, and nothing else. I think about that decision most days.
The room at the end of the hall
The best rooms I have ever been in were quiet. Not silent — quiet. There was a conversation already happening when you walked in, and the furniture was arranged so you could join it without making a scene.
A page is a room. You can fill it with everything you own, or you can leave the corners empty and let people walk around.
I wanted a page like that. So I took everything off the walls and put back one thing at a time, and stopped the moment I felt the room ask me to stop.
If you're here because we've already met, the footer is a reliable door. If you're here for the first time, welcome — take your time.