The hardest part of any project, I'm slowly learning, is the part before you have anything to react to. A blank page is not really a page. It's an absence pretending to be a place.
So this is the first post on the new site. It exists mostly so the blog template has something to render. I'd like to say something more interesting, but the truer thing is just: I made it, and now there's a page where there wasn't one before.
Begin in the middle. The middle is the only place a beginning ever actually lives.
Why a personal site, in 2026
Every couple of years I think about giving up on the personal-site idea. The platforms get easier. The audiences gather elsewhere. And for a while I drift toward whatever's frictionless.
But the friction is the point. A site you own is a small, slow act of refusal — a refusal to let your work be summarized into a feed. It's a place where the writing can be longer than a screen, the photos can breathe, and the experiments don't have to do numbers.
What's coming
A book — slowly. Wedding films and stills as I edit them. A small rotating set of interactive things on the play page. And whatever this turns into.
If you found this and you know me: hi. If you don't: also hi.