Some of my best memories are on public transit — small moments that happen when you're packed into a train car with strangers — overhearing a wholesome phone call, planting your feet into the ground as the car makes a sharp turn, watching a passenger nodding off and missing their stop. Riveting discussions on the bustling bus to class, or the delirious and half-asleep conversation you’re convinced is “deep” on a late-night subway ride home.
Maybe that's part of why I come back to the train scene in Spirited Away so often. I grew up watching Studio Ghibli films (I've seen every. single. one. at least 3+ times...), and that scene has always stuck with me (it’s iconic for a reason though…). There's almost no dialogue — just a train moving quietly through water while Chihiro and No-Face sit in silence — but somehow, it says so much without really saying anything.
Then, when I went to Japan in 2025, I noticed something much smaller: every train line has its own unique departure jingle. Just a few notes, over in seconds, and probably something most people stop noticing after a while. But someone still decided that the sound of a train leaving was worth designing.
That's the kind of care I wanted this portfolio to hold onto — not as some big, sweeping metaphor, but through the small, delightful details that didn't have to be there. The stamp that lands exactly where you click. The little "no" shake when you press somewhere you shouldn't. The walking animation on the sidebar. The footer cat waiting for you if you scroll all the way to the bottom. None of it is strictly necessary, but that's also kind of the point.
And I think some of that probably comes from the fact that my dream job growing up was to be an indie game dev. This portfolio became an excuse to sneak in a lot of the things I love about games: tiny rewards, playful interactions, and the feeling that clicking around might actually lead somewhere. I've always liked functional apps that borrow a little from games — Duolingo, Strava, Beli, even Robinhood — and games like Gorogoa, where the interaction itself is part of how you figure things out.
I wanted this site to have a little of that feeling too. Less "here's my portfolio," and more "here, play around."
If you want the deeper, step-by-step version of how this site actually got built, I wrote a whole page on it — check it out here.