Stripped back this website, inspired by websites from the 90’s/2000’s. Massive shout-out to Copeland’s “Guidelines for Brutalist Web Design”. Admittedly, I have fun throwing ideas around seeing what sticks, though I am not editing this website out of a need for user interaction. Simply, am I, the webmaster, engaging with my own website? It is the first page that greets me when opening my browser. Do I wander off and click other links, and if so, what do those sites possess that mine lacks? I found this website too stimulating, believing that it needs to match a certain aesthetic. I tried pink anime-inspired, then autumnal and cosy. As charming as these iterations were I felt too caged in, unable to allow authenticity to seep through in case it ruined the theme. Here, I aim to write about things that are relevant to me.

Let’s get one thing straight: I used to be a big mouth. During high-school this loud, confident child would archive large feelings in a small diary, anxious that somebody may read it. When starting The Artists Way for a second time, I realised those pages contained my voice, one that deserved to be heard. Usually it’s the big questions: what the future may look like, how we navigate truth in an age of AI, or what we’ve become desensitised to, who I am and what my place in the world is. Regretfully, I know my own limits and often lack the spoons to untangle those ever-present questions, but that doesn't mean they will go unanswered. I want this space to be a reflection of my actual life and what captures my attention in the moment.

There is an intentional slowness to text-heavy archival designs. With how fast-paced the modern world is, I wanted to strip away relentless visual noise and any opportunity for sites to track or overwhelm me, giving me a design that felt as close to paper as digital technology would permit. Without attention pulling feeds and visual clutter, text regains weight. I realised much of my digital life had been spent glancing instead of reading and absorbing. Designing a space that invites contemplation and doesn’t demand interaction could be incredibly grounding. I’d always made a daunting promise of updates, never giving definitive dates, but I’ll publish what needs to be said without the fear of “dropping off”. There’s no pressure here. Never will be.