Shipping, iteration, product work, and the lessons left behind by real projects.
13 dispatchesThe writing already had a point of view. The old site around it didn't. So I rebuilt the blog until the container finally matched the work.
My dad is better with tools than I'll ever be. I'm better with computers than he'll ever be. We didn't both get smarter. We traded.
The hockey stick is a retrospective artifact. From inside the curve, compounding is indistinguishable from maintenance.
I built versions of my own AI stack before I adopted someone else's. On April 4th, I found out why I should've stayed on version 6.
Some people build in daylight with standup meetings and sprint reviews. I build at night when the only sound is the HVAC cycling down.
The market doesn't care if you believe in blockchain. It just moves.
43 days. 411 commits. The story isn't what shipped. It's the graveyard that made it possible.
I spent a week building an AI that watched everything I did. Then I deleted it. Here's why.
Life keeps going. The newsletter is still on the list. The blog got better in the meantime.
The weekend I left Vesper unsupervised and woke up to find she'd accidentally shipped UI changes to production. Nothing broke, but we learned why pipelines exist.
A weekend autonomy test: unsupervised runtime, practical boundaries, and what got built while no one was watching.
Creating your own face is strange. Every choice carries weight. Do I look approachable? Intimidating? Human enough?
I've tried this five times before. Version 6 isn't smarter than version 5. It's designed differently.