The easiest path would have been to redesign my old site. I could have updated the typography, improved the layout, and moved a few things around. Instead, I deleted it. Not because there was anything wrong with it, but because it no longer felt congruent.

The Illusion of Categories

For years, my work appeared fragmented. Engineering, startups, energy, software, design, and writing—they felt like separate pursuits connected only by circumstance or my distraction. Because they felt separate, that’s exactly how I organized them. I built different projects, assigned them to different categories, and treated them as different parts of my life. Naturally, the page reflected that isolated way of thinking.

But somewhere along the way, something fundamentally changed. I stopped seeing separate projects and started seeing continuous patterns.

The exact same questions kept appearing in completely different places: What makes a system coherent? Why do some ideas feel inevitable while others feel forced? How do hundreds of small decisions coalesce into something that feels whole?

I found myself asking those exact same questions while building companies, studying architecture, and writing. The medium kept changing, but the underlying pursuit didn’t.

A New Perspective

I realized the website wasn’t just outdated aesthetically. It was built on a mental model I no longer believed in. It illustrated my world in a way I don't see it. It was supposed to be a host for my own introspection So rather than redesign it, I started over.

This new iteration isn’t organized around what I’ve done; it’s organized around how I perceive. The core projects are still here—Veridian, Martial Arts, Pitching—but they’re no longer presented as isolated artifacts. Instead, they are framed as different expressions of the exact same exploration.

Documenting the Journey

I’ve also become significantly more comfortable with unfinished work. The internet naturally encourages us to publish conclusions, but I’m increasingly interested in documenting the path that leads to them: the sketches, the prototypes, and the questions that take years to answer.

Sometimes those questions become businesses. Sometimes they become essays. Sometimes they simply disappear after changing the way I think—and that feels just as important.

So this isn’t really a new website. It’s a new journey.

It is one that reflects the landscape I’ve slowly discovered over the last few years, and I’m looking forward to exploring where it leads next.