I Gave My Website a Newsroom

Every post I have ever written lives on somebody else's property. LinkedIn owns the feed. X owns the thread. The algorithm decides who sees the work, the platform decides how the link looks, and if either changes the rules tomorrow, the archive of everything I have made in public changes with it.

So in one working session, I built this: a blog on my own site, with one detail that was the whole point of the project. Every post here designs its own link preview. When you paste one of these URLs into LinkedIn or anywhere else, the card you see, the headline, the image, the framing, is mine. Not a platform's guess. A designed object, in the same typography as the rest of this site.

Why AI, actually

Before the structural story, the honest one, because this blog is the opening thesis for everything I do with AI.

I am an imperfect person. Sometimes very imperfect. I miss things. I get things wrong. AI covers for that. It catches the miss, sharpens the sloppy edge, and makes sure the thing I ship actually nails it.

I have also never been as fast as I want to be. AI collapses the distance between deciding and done. Something I would have scheduled for a month can come to life in a day, a few hours, sometimes minutes.

Everyone has ideas. Most of them die quietly, not because they were bad, but because nobody had the time, the money, or the hands to build them. That excuse is gone. If I think something should exist, I can make it exist.

And on the slop debate: used with taste, AI does not lower the bar. It raises mine. It takes work I would have called decent and pushes it past what I could have made alone.

The things about myself I have worked hardest to improve, precision, speed, follow-through, are exactly the things AI amplifies. That is the passion. Everything on this blog runs through that lens.

Why a blog

I have spent the last two months building things in public: a galaxy visualization where you can watch how objects in space travel among each other, a playable 3D game shipped in a day, AI production pipelines. Each one got a post, the post got a link, and the link got whatever preview the platform felt like generating. The work was intentional. The way it traveled was not.

For a producer, that gap should be unacceptable. We do not let a trailer ship with a random thumbnail. The preview card is the one frame of the work most people will ever see, and it was the one frame I had no control over. Now I do. That is the same thesis, applied to distribution instead of the work itself: the tools got fast, and taste is the part that does not automate. Taste should extend all the way to how the link looks in your feed.

How it was built

The same way everything I have shipped this summer was built: I directed, AI executed. This blog, the post template, and the preview card generator were designed and coded in one working session with Claude, matching the design system of the site you are reading. The stack is deliberately boring: static HTML, no framework, no CMS, deployed on Netlify. Boring is a feature. Nothing here can break in a way that costs a working day.

The interesting part is the pipeline it enables. From here on, everything I build gets a permanent, illustrated home on this site, and the social posts become pointers to a place I own. Feeds are for reach. This is for the record.

What happens here

Notes from the production seat. Builds, breakdowns of what worked and what broke, and the occasional argument about where AI and creative craft are actually going, written by someone who ships with these tools every day rather than theorizing about them.

This site is also the canonical record of who I am and what I make. That matters for people, and increasingly it matters for AI agents reading the web on their behalf. When a model gets asked about my work, I would rather it learn from my own pages than from a platform's fragments.

So it starts here.