An engineer who cares
March 2, 2025
I’ve rebuilt this portfolio more times than I can count. Each time, I started with a grand vision—maybe this one should have intricate animations, maybe a 3D model of myself that waves and says Hi 👋🏻. At one point, I even spent two weeks deep in Blender, learning bone structures and rigging just to make that happen.
And then, just like so many ideas before it, I scrapped it. Not because I couldn’t do it, but because at some point, I had to ask myself: does any of this actually matter?
I’ve been working with the web for almost a decade now. That feels like a big number—like I should have all the answers by now. But the truth is, the longer I do this, the more I realize that great work doesn’t come from just knowing how to build things.
It comes from caring enough to make them better, to push past the “good enough,” to take that extra step when nobody’s asking you to.
And that’s the hard part.
Because the frustrating reality is that craft takes time—time that isn’t always valued. That smooth transition that took me four extra hours to perfect? No one will notice. The thoughtful interaction that took twice as long to refine? Most people will scroll past it without a second thought. It’s easy to wonder: does it even make sense to care this much?
And some days, honestly, it doesn’t.
Because caring isn’t just about building—it’s about aligning. It’s about trying to get everyone on the same page when design is subjective, when decisions stretch on for days, when the energy you once had for making something beautiful gets chipped away by feedback loops and shifting priorities. Sometimes, you’re just tired. Sometimes, you stop caring—not because you want to, but because it feels like the only way to keep going.
But despite all that, I still want to care. Because I know the difference that extra 10-20% makes. Not in big, flashy ways, but in the small moments where something just feels right—where an experience is seamless, where a design just works, where someone might not be able to pinpoint why, but they know it feels effortless.
That’s what this redesign is about. Not over-engineering, not chasing trends, but making something minimal, intentional, and well-crafted. A space that reflects not just my work, but the way I think about work.
So here it is—another iteration, but one that feels closer to who I am now.