Colophon.
A colophon is where you explain how the thing was made. This is that. Fonts, tools, colors, and a brief, unapologetic defense of every decision that went into building a blog that looks like 2009 fell into a paint mixer.
Back to aboutThe stack.
The type.
Loud by design. No apologies.
2002 called. I picked up.
One font can be handwritten. Just one.
The reliable one. Like a good Tuesday taco order.
The colors.
The personality color. Use liberally.
Alert but approachable. Like a crossing guard.
Online dot green. Perpetually logged in.
For when hot pink feels like too much commitment.
For the guestbook sidebar and deeply personal moments.
Almost-black. Keeps things grounded.
The warm off-white that says 'real zine, not a PDF.'
Why does it look like this?
Because I wanted it to. Because every minimalist white blog looks the same and I have opinions about that. Because I grew up on the internet when the internet was loud and weird and mine, and I miss that.
The aesthetic is deliberately retro-web — pixel fonts, thick borders, bright blocks of color, MySpace energy, zine sensibility. It's nostalgic for a time when having a website meant something about who you were, not just what you were selling.
Every color is named. Every font is deliberate. The bold borders aren't a mistake — they're load-bearing. This site was built by one person with strong opinions about design and a doughnut-fueled deadline, and it shows, and I'm proud of it.
No AI ghostwriting. No shortcuts. Just code and snacks.
Okay, now go read something.
Take me to the journal