Why This Website Exists

I have built a genuinely unreasonable number of things and every one of them lived somewhere different. An App Store page here, a GitHub repo there, a marketing site for a couple of them and nothing at all for the rest. The apps have a home at Tanooki Studios, which is right for the apps, but I also write, and watch a frankly irresponsible amount of television, and print things in plastic, and take photographs, and none of that belongs on a software company's website. If you wanted to know what I actually do, there was no answer I could give you that fit in one link.

So: one place. Apps, writing, film and TV, prints, photos. All of it.

What's here

Apps. Every app I've made, whether it's out, in testing, or still on the bench. This is the same list as the Tanooki site, on purpose. They're my apps and this is my site, and I didn't want two lists that drift apart.

The blog. This. Long thoughts, short thoughts, the occasional rant. There's no schedule, and there are no dates on the posts, because a date tells you nothing useful about whether a post is worth reading and quite a lot about whether I've been busy. You get a reading time at the top instead, which is the thing you actually wanted to know.

Film and TV. I watch a lot and I have opinions about all of it. Each review gets the poster with my score stamped on it, so you can get the verdict from the shelf without reading a word. The posters come from a film database automatically. I did not track them down by hand. I want to be clear about that, because the version of me that tracked them down by hand would never have finished a single review.

3D prints. Things I've designed and printed and will make more of if you want one.

Photography. The photos, and how to hire me if you'd like some of your own.

Built the way I build everything

This site renders every page fresh from a database when you ask for it, which means when I publish something it's simply there. No build step, no deploy, no ten-minute wait while a static site regenerates. It matters more than it sounds like it should. The friction between "I wrote a thing" and "the thing is public" is exactly where writing goes to die, and I've watched it die there on every other site I've had.

I wrote the whole thing myself, including the admin, including the editor I'm typing this into. That's not a boast. I looked at what was available, found that every option was either a subscription, a weekly security patch, or a plugin ecosystem, and decided that a site this simple should be simple underneath as well. It's a few database tables and some code that turns them into pages. The whole thing runs on Cloudflare and costs approximately nothing.

There's no JavaScript on the public pages except one tiny script that remembers whether you picked light or dark mode. Nothing tracks you. There's no analytics. If you read this and leave, I will never know, and I've made peace with that.

Pink, in both directions

The site is pink. It's also pink in dark mode. I mention this because almost every "dark mode" I've ever seen is the same site with the colors inverted and all the personality drained out, and I wanted the dark version to still feel like mine. Pick whichever you like. It'll remember.

No face

You will not find a photo of me anywhere on this site. That's deliberate and it isn't going to change. I'm happy to tell you I'm autistic and that I work alone, because both of those things explain the work. What I look like explains nothing.

The work is the subject. That's the whole idea of the place.