Five Pages, One Month: My Experiment in Digital Minimalism
I stripped my website down to five pages, killed every plugin, and published nothing but the essentials for a full month. Here's what happened to my traffic, my sanity, and my writing.
Projects, writings, and the work in between.
I stripped my website down to five pages, killed every plugin, and published nothing but the essentials for a full month. Here's what happened to my traffic, my sanity, and my writing.
I spent three weeks interviewing recruiters and hiring managers about how they evaluate candidates online, and the results upended my assumptions. Turns out the About page — not the portfolio — is where interviews are actually won.
Your résumé gets 7 seconds. Your personal site gets a real visit. Here's what recruiters and hiring managers told me they're actually looking for when they click through to your corner of the internet — and what quietly sinks candidates before anyone hits reply.
One tiny project, essay, or update — published publicly, every week, for a month. No strategy, no launch plan. Here's the honest ledger of what worked, what flopped, and why the smallest week was the hardest one.
Most personal sites die within a year because they're built like fireworks: one spectacular launch, then silence. The sites that last are built like houseplants — watered a little, pruned occasionally, and allowed to grow at their own pace.
Every creative person has a graveyard of almosts — the app at 60%, the essay at paragraph three, the podcast that died after two episodes. Here's why showing your WIP pile might be the most honest thing you ever publish.
Everyone's portfolio shows the winners. This is the other list — five projects I abandoned, each with a short autopsy. Spoiler: the failures taught me more than any launch ever did.
A polished LinkedIn profile tells people what you claim to have done. A living portfolio shows them what you've actually shipped. Here's why building in public became the best career move I never planned.
After five years of feature creep, I rebuilt my personal site from a blank file. What survived, what got cut, and the honest postmortem on the stuff that never made it past the prototype.
Somewhere along the way, every hobby project started getting asked the same question: how will this make money? Here's a defense of building things that are allowed to stay small, weird, and gloriously unprofitable.
Personal websites are having a moment — and it's not nostalgia, it's a correction. A look at why everyone from designers to CPAs is building their own home online, plus a practical starter checklist.
Formal jobs taught me how to execute. Side projects taught me how to think. Here's what shipping things for myself — including the failures — actually taught me.