Across games, digital products, communities, and systems.
I care more about how things feel six months in than how they convert on the first visit. Emotional pacing. Whether it gives you permission to slow down. Whether you'd hand it to a friend.
I treat the work as tending. Most of what I'm proud of got composed, then maintained, then trimmed over years. The maintenance is where the design actually happens.
Slowness and ambiguity usually stay in on purpose. They're what makes a thing worth coming back to.
Projects I've designed, built, or shipped. Some live, some finished.
A printed magazine, once a month, made from articles people were saving online and not reading.
Issues came back dog-eared and lent between friends, with margin notes in handwriting that wasn't the first reader's.
Once a day, you tap one button. That's it.
Later, one anonymous trace from someone else who tapped the same button appears on your screen and then fades. No profile, no history, nothing to reply to.
One edited issue a week, pulled from what you already follow — RSS, bookmarks, YouTube, podcasts — and delivered to your Kindle.
It has a first page and a last page. You finish, close the cover, and it's done.
If any of this is your kind of thing,
get in touch. I'm slow, but I read everything.