This is a place I built to hold things. Art, sound, fragments of writing —
things that don't have anywhere else to live. If you found it, you probably
already know what kind of site this is. Read the about page
if you want context, or just
look at the art and figure it out yourself.
Slow site. Heavy textures. Best experienced at 2am with something
from the mixtape playing in the background.
There's a specific frequency the world reaches when everyone else is asleep. Not quiet — quiet implies the absence of something. This is the presence of a different something, a lower register that the daytime covers up like furniture over carpet stains...
Someone asked why my recent work looks like a bruise. I said that wasn't wrong. Constraint is its own kind of engine — cutting the palette to lavender, peach, and void-black forced every decision to mean something or be deleted...
Downtempo does something to time. It makes the present tense feel retrospective, like you're already remembering it while it's still happening. This is a list of records that do exactly that...
My name doesn't matter as much as what I make. I've been on the internet
since before it got comfortable, and I keep coming back to these handmade
pages because I think there's something here that bigger platforms can't
replicate: the feeling that a person built this, alone, at a desk, at a
strange hour, for no commercial reason whatsoever.
I make visual work, write essays and fragments, and put together playlists
that I think of as extended moods rather than song collections. This site
is the archive. Not everything gets published. But the things that do have
been held for long enough.
Built in plain HTML, CSS, and JavaScript. Three.js for the background and divider animations. Fonts from Google Fonts: Press Start 2P, VT323, Courier Prime. Hosted on Neocities. No frameworks. No build step. No analytics or tracking. Hand-edited in a text editor. Updated when there is something worth saying.
There's a specific frequency the world reaches when everyone else is asleep. Not quiet — quiet implies the absence of something. This is the presence of a different something, a lower register that the daytime covers up like furniture over carpet stains...
Someone asked why my recent work looks like a bruise. I said that wasn't wrong. Constraint is its own kind of engine — cutting the palette to lavender, peach, and void-black forced every decision to mean something or be deleted...
Downtempo does something to time. It makes the present tense feel retrospective, like you're already remembering it while it's still happening. This is a list of records that do exactly that...
The flicker you can see is the slow one. The one doing things to your biology operates at 60hz and below the threshold of perception. Your body notices anyway. Your body always notices...
Version one was a Blogger template I spent two weeks manually overriding. Every iteration since has been starting over — not because the old one was broken, but because rebuilding forces you to decide what still matters...
End of year writing is embarrassing for the same reason eulogies are: you're forced to perform a coherence that the actual experience never had. Still, there are images from this year that keep coming back with a particular sharpness...
"this one is for late nights, the kind where it doesn't feel like you're waiting for anything. it's slow on purpose. some of these tracks I've had for a decade and they still land like the first time. others I found last month and they feel like they've always been there."
I'm slow to respond and selective about what I read. If it's about the work, I'm interested. If it's collaborative, probably also yes. If you just want to tell me something felt right, I like that too. Email is best. Everything else is occasional.
For anything real. Response time: slow but certain.
Site profile, follow links, and ring membership.
Art reblogs and the older visual archive.
Real-time listening history and taste archaeology.
The old-web tradition. Leave a name, a thought, or a frequency. I read every entry.