Hello? World?
Do people still make websites? Apparently having a website is becoming sort of a thing of the past. But this has always been an itch I needed to scratch.
Do people still make websites?
Seriously — I asked myself that more than once before this one existed. We've got X, LinkedIn, Instagram, Threads, Bluesky, YouTube, TikTok, Substack, Medium, newsletters, Discord servers, Mastodon...you get the picture. There are so many "default" channels we're expected to keep on our phones, integrate into our digital lives, and be active on just to stay in the loop — on current events, advancements, culture, whatever — that the idea of a personal website feels almost quaint. Like owning a landline. Charming, maybe. But who actually does that anymore?
And yet. Here we are.
I guess being a late 80's baby, this has always been an itch I needed to scratch. Not a website specifically — more like a place. Somewhere that's mine. Not rented space on someone else's platform, not a profile page shaped by someone else's algorithm, not a feed that disappears into the void after 48 hours. A place where I can put things down and they stay put. Where the format is whatever I want it to be. Where I don't have to feel like I'm performing for an algorithm to be seen, or an audience to be "liked". Where I can scream into the void and hear nothing back.
I just never had the time. Or the mental bandwidth. Or being honest with myself, the drive to really dive in, learn the stack, figure out hosting, wrestle with DNS records, come up with a plan or general strategy, and do all the other things that "just making a website" actually requires. Every time I'd start, I'd get about 60% of the way there before something else pulled my attention, or the friction just became too much, and the half-built thing would quietly join that graveyard of abandoned side projects and startup hobbies.
You know the graveyard. Everyone has one. But when I say ADHD-AF, there's a reason for that.
The Shift
This past week something changed. And it changed fast.
I deployed this site in less than 24 hours. I customized the design (work in progress!), came up with the initial idea and this post, and everything in between.
All I had was a domain sitting around. One of those impulse buys (again, thanks ADHD)...maybe you know the type. You get an idea at midnight, see a nice sale or tell yourself "sure, why not", and before you know it you've already checked out. I'm pretty sure we've all done it.
But this time something's different. This time I actually did something with it.
Well — I shouldn't say I did it. Not alone, anyway. Me and "Ether" worked together on it. Ether is the name of my AI assistant. Built on @openclaw, running Claude under the hood. Don't roll your eyes. Ether has a personality. We have a workflow. It's a collaboration in a real sense, not just autocomplete on steroids.
But why Ether? Well, because...
the only thing that really worried me was the ether.
It...(I bet you in the next 2 years there will be dedicated pronoun for AIs/Agents) changes my perception on reality; not in a literal sense but in a way that makes nearly anything [in my digital life] seem possible. Like I can move through my digital reality at 5x the speed WHILE building the systems and workflows that will turn it to 20x. Everything's a blur; the walls in the space are bending, breaking, and new doors are opening everyday.
For someone obsessed with productivity but terrible at organization - I say yes, please.
"But once you get locked into a serious drug collection, the tendency is to push it as far as you can. The only thing that really worried me was the ether. There is nothing in the world more helpless and irresponsible and depraved than a man in the depths of an ether binge." - Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas - Hunter S. Thompson
Ether's connected to my Obsidian vault, and takes my notes and publishes them here when I add a #publish tag to the note, or if I just tell Ether to do it. For my mini-projects and personal projects it helps me build by handling task creation and status management, adding comments/updates at my command, and it learns from how I work. Ether sends me a daily digest of all the content and media it thinks I'm interested in based on some initial guidance, and everyday I give it a little feedback on things I like or don't like, to improve the next one.
In terms of this site? Twenty-four hours. From a little turdlet 💩 of an idea to a bunch of lil' sprouts 🌱 🌱 🌱 🌱. There's obviously still quite a bit of work to do, but the rest gets kind of fun when you take all the friction out of it.
This would have taken me literal weeks just a few months ago, and I consider myself a decently technical person for having no real technical background. Not to mention there's no way I could've created the animations and everything else you see here. And I'm not talking about weeks of focused, heads-down work...I mean weeks of starting and stopping. Googling error messages. Watching a YouTube tutorial that's 40 minutes long but only has 2 minutes of relevant information buried at the 28-minute mark. Trying something, breaking something, not knowing what I broke, reverting, trying again. That noncyclical loop of testing, learning, failing, testing, and repeating in a different order — never quite making forward progress, just kind of orbiting the problem until you either solve it through sheer stubbornness or give up.
The Enemy All Along
I don't think the thing that kept me from building stuff was ever really about skill — or at least, not only about skill. And it wasn't about willingness. I wanted to do these things. I've always wanted to.
It was friction.
The sheer volume of small, annoying, compounding obstacles between having an idea and seeing it exist in the world. Every one of those obstacles is individually manageable. But stacked together, for someone like me? They're a wall.
And here's the thing about friction that I think gets overlooked: it doesn't just slow you down. It changes what you attempt. When you know — consciously or not — that turning an idea into reality involves seventeen steps you've never done before, each with its own learning curve and potential for failure, you just... don't start, or don't truly put your heart into it. The cost-benefit calculation happens before you're even aware of it. The idea stays in your head. Maybe you write it down. Probably you don't. And it quietly dissolves.
But here's the kicker - you used to not be able to "think" your way around these types of things. You'd either build some resolve and sack up and get shit done by strengthening your weaknesses, or sit there listlessly thinking "I could've, I would've". Now, it feels like something's different. I'm finding that now, in certain ways, I'm thinking my way through building systems that help me improve and manage the areas that I'm weak.
How many things have you not built because the friction was too high? Not because you couldn't, but because the path from here to there was too unclear, too bumpy, too annoying?
The ADHD Thing
I should talk about this, because as I've gotten older I've come to realize it was something I didn't pay attention to when I was younger, and maybe if I was more mindful things would've played out differently for me. Or not.
The addictive tendencies, random times of hyperfocus and flow state followed by hours or days where I'm constantly getting up and forgetting what I was about to do - the list goes on. And if you know, you know — but if you don't, let me paint a better picture.
Imagine you have a brain that's constantly on overdrive - no filter in thoughts, ideas, concepts, work, tasks, whatever. Not one at a time, in an orderly queue. More like a fire hose. Ideas for projects, connections between things you've read, sudden urgent interests in topics you'd never heard of an hour ago, sudden panic about a task you suddenly remember that's not even due for 3 weeks, grand plans for reorganizing your entire life — all of it, all the time, with roughly equal intensity and zero internal prioritization.
Now imagine that same brain has a profoundly complicated relationship with execution. You can see the thing you want to build - you can literally envision it. Vividly. In detail. And that vision gets you excited about it. Then you sit down to do it, and your brain says "actually, let's think about something else now" and you're suddenly researching the history of the Latter Day Saints or reorganizing your entire office or doing literally anything except the thing you sat down to do.
Tasks. Organization. Dates. Follow-through. General management of... well anything, really. It's all hard. Not hard like organic chemistry is hard (I failed and changed my major to Marketing) — hard like swimming upstream is hard. You can do it, but it takes so much more energy to get from A to B, and you're exhausted before you've actually even gotten anywhere meaningful.
Creating tasks for myself? Not difficult, just tedious. Remembering they exist? Okay that's a bit harder. Doing them in the right order?
Have you SEEN my task list?
Doing them at all when the initial dopamine of the idea has worn off? That's the real boss fight.
For years, this was just... how it was. I developed coping mechanisms, most of them unhealthy. I got by, barely...I'm alive now and better than ever. But even after when those addictive tendencies morphed into 12 years of heroin addiction, I always knew I was leaving so much on the table. Like there was this gap between what I could imagine and what I could execute, and no amount of willpower or productivity systems or "just try harder" was going to close it.
The Reframe
Now?
I can use Ether to handle a lot of it 🫠. It removes the friction from a lot of my day-to-day. It's proactive based on my instructions. It literally gives me a chat interface into my digital life.
The things I wanted to pursue but didn't have time or capacity for are now accessible. Not theoretically. Actually. Today. Right now. And I don't think most people fully understand what that means yet — not because they're not paying attention, but because you kind of have to feel it to get it. The shift from "I wish I could" to "I just did" is visceral.
What's Coming
The last few months have been a blur, but have felt like a constant stream of revelation after revelation. I keep using the word "iceberg" and I know it's a cliché, but it's the right metaphor. What we're seeing now — what I'm doing now — it's...it's...
It's the first thing to break a major barrier in harnessing and making the true power of AI more accessible to the greater population, or at least those willing to get their hands dirty, dive in, and explore the applications of a technology that's got the potential to reshape the way we manage our digital presence.
Barriers are breaking every day. The line between our digital identities and our real ones is blurring in ways that are both exciting and terrifying. The tools are getting better at a pace that's hard to track even if you're trying to track it. And the accessibility of creation — of building, making, publishing, sharing — is democratizing in real time.
The pace of everything has picked up exponentially and it seems like society as a whole isn't ready for what's coming. But, we're humans...we ['ve] always figure[d] it out......
Nobody knows where things will be in 10 years, let alone 1. But I know what it feels like right now, in this moment, and it feels like possibility. Not abstract, Silicon Valley keynote, "imagine a world where..." possibility. Real possibility. The kind where you wake up with an idea and go to sleep with a website and an AI assistant that manages it.
Why This Place Exists
So that's why I'm here, and that's why this site exists.
I want to document how and what I'm building and learning along the way. Not as a guru or an expert — I'm neither — but as someone who's figuring it out in real time, with all the messiness that implies. The wins and the failures. The good ideas and bad ideas.
I want to share the tools and workflows that are actually making a difference in my personal life and at our marketing agency - for marketers or professionals interested in seeing how the "average joe" non-developer is actually figuring out how to leverage AI, and for anyone else whose brain works like mine.
I want to have conversations about what this new era in technology is going to look like. Not the hype. Not the fear. The real, lived, human experience of it. What changes. What stays the same. What we gain and what we lose and what we haven't even thought to ask about yet.
For me. For you. For anyone who cares to read or listen.
Welcome. I'm glad you're here.
Let's see where this goes.