Looking at the Colophon from its last update, I mentioned that a refresh had happened in February 2025. A year later, another refresh has landed.
I wouldn’t normally write about a site update like this, but the goal of the new homepage design allows me to do just that.
It’s a lovely quirk of us personal site owners: we create a framework for how our websites are structured, and how they should work. No different than how your workspace, or home is. Our visitors couldn’t care less, but it has to represent us, in all of our unique and genuine selves.
A good example to me is how bloggers delineate between “notes” and “essays.” The difference is clear enough: a note is short, loose, and casual while an essay is long, intentional, and formal. To a reader who comes to land on a post (or article or...) by way of an RSS reader or a link posted on a social network, the context is less when seen in isolation. The context does matter, and it ladders up to where that piece of work sits within the wider range of who the writer is.
In my previous homepage, I had a latest post up top, with an excerpt, and then the most recent 10 posts after that. And that was it. The focus was on recency. It felt heavy though. On one hand, it made me want to write things of worthwhile nature, but it stopped me from the more note-like entries I wanted to write. The recent Chasm Lake, Again is an example of content that might sit outside the usual mix of things I write about. However, it was an activity and memory I cherish, and wanted to share. My site should be where I do that.
It was interesting to see what people resonated with last year, and they happened to be the pieces I was proud of. I felt that these would be a good way to showcase what I tend to write about here, and would be good introductory pieces. Thus, the “Start Here” section was added with a hand-curated list.
In this new version, I wanted to introduce myself better. With Latent Co. and Aphera in motion, an intro paragraph felt appropriate. We’re early in building an independent software company, so the context helps.
The recent entries follow. Here, reverse chronological works, and lessens the burden on me to justify the most visible real estate on the former version.
A new footer is here, cleaning up and consolidating the two big sections of the newsletter and classic footer.
Other improvements are scattered about the site. The Journal section has year headers, and I added the noteworthy indicators a few months ago.
In my friend’s rental, there’s a book. It’s called “Everybody Needs a Rock,” by Byrd Baylor, and lovingly illustrated by Peter Parnall:
The size must be perfect. It has to feel easy in your hand when you close your fingers over it. It has to feel jumpy in your pocket when you run. Some people touch a rock a thousand times a day. There aren't many things that feel as good as a rock — if the rock is perfect.
Friend Ethan Marcotte wrote about personal websites being worry stones, a post I return to often:
It was a few years before I realized that worry stones had a name, that they were borrowed from cultures other and older than mine. Heck, it’s been more than a few years since I’ve even held one. But in the last few weeks, before and after launching the redesign, I’ve kept working away at this website, much as I’d distractedly run my fingers over a smooth, flat stone.
Just like this website. It’s my rock. I’ve worn it in, polished it, to be my worry stone.