It's been almost five years since I wrote my first post on this site, and once again, I find myself rebuilding from scratch. Some things never change. But this time, I'm not just building a portfolio or a blog—I'm building a living repository of my entire life.
The original site was my first real attempt at creating something that felt like me. This version goes so much further. I want this to be a place where everything I've created, collected, and cared about can live together—photos spanning decades, writing from high school English class to yesterday's random musings, artwork I'm proud of and artwork I probably shouldn't show anyone, code projects both finished and abandoned, and everything in between.
I'm especially excited about documenting the artifacts of my life. That weird ceramic thing I made in seventh grade. The concert ticket stub from a show that changed how I think about music. The first website I ever built (oh god). Each of these objects carries a memory, and I want to give them a home here—not just as images in a gallery, but as stories worth telling.
I'm calling it a "living archive" because it's not meant to be static. Clouds drift across the screen, my Pixar-style avatar welcomes you in, and the whole thing is designed to grow and breathe as I add to it. It's weird, it's personal, and I absolutely love it.
Under the hood, I've moved from Gridsome to Nuxt 3. Gridsome served me well, but development on it has stalled, and Nuxt has become the clear winner in the Vue ecosystem. The migration wasn't trivial, but the improvements in developer experience made it worthwhile. Still team Vue, still hosted on Netlify, still no databases to worry about.
What's next? Building out the archive itself. Creating a system that makes it easy to add memories without it becoming a chore. Maybe experimenting with AI to help surface connections between artifacts I'd never noticed. And definitely more writing—the blog has been dormant too long.
So, welcome to the new site. It's less a portfolio now and more a digital attic—full of treasures, some junk, and a lot of stories waiting to be told. Come on in. Please excuse the mess; I'm still unpacking.