Sketchbook
Why I Added It
I have always had this habit of drawing little things while thinking.
Not proper drawings.
Just small marks.
A box around a word. A bad flower. A face with two dots and a line. Sometimes a shape that starts as a circle and slowly becomes something else because my hand keeps moving while my mind is somewhere else.
It happens when I am stuck.
It also happens when I am not stuck, but I need a few seconds before I know what I actually want to say.
That was somewhere in the back of my mind when I added the Sketchbook.
I did not want it to feel like another section of the site.
Small Marks Become Ideas
I think a lot of ideas start like that.
Not as clean notes.
Not as polished screens.
Just terrible little sketches made in the corner of a page, usually with no plan and no real reason to exist. Most of them are not worth keeping. Some of them are barely worth looking at. But they still do something useful. They make the thought feel less heavy.
Most of the time, work does not begin in a finished state. It begins as a mess. A word. A line. A small mistake that leads to another one. Sometimes it begins as the kind of sketch you would normally throw away before anyone else sees it.
There is a strange comfort in making something that can disappear.
I think that is why I like doodles. They are not asking to be taken seriously. They are just proof that a hand was there, thinking through something in its own quiet way.
Why It Exists
There are already enough pages here that try to explain what I have made, what I have written, what I have worked on, and what I care about. A portfolio tends to become a place for finished things. Case studies. Posts. Lists. Dates. Neatly arranged evidence that something happened.
That is fine.
But it is also incomplete.
I wanted a tiny part of this site to admit that.
The little flower on the homepage became the way in.
It started as a quiet mark, almost like a signature. Not a profile photo. Not a logo trying too hard. Just a small hand-drawn thing sitting near the introduction. After a while, it felt like it should do something. Not something big. Just enough to make the page feel a little more alive.
So now it points to a blank page.
Clicking the flower opens the Sketchbook. There is no feed, no account, no prompt, no saved gallery of other people doing better work. Just a blank canvas and a few simple tools.
You can draw with a pen.
You can use a marker.
You can erase things badly, which feels honest.
If you want, you can export the drawing as a PNG, SVG, or PDF. I added that because sometimes a small thing is worth keeping for a minute longer. But that is not really the point of it.
The point is the blank page.
I like blank pages because they do not ask much at first. They do not know whether you are going to draw something useful or waste ten seconds writing your name. They do not care if the line is uneven. They do not ask you to make an account before you make a mark.
That feels rare now.
So many parts of the internet want a response, a metric, a decision, a performance. Even small interactions can feel like they are trying to become something measurable.
I wanted this to be the opposite.
Nothing needs to be saved forever.
Nothing needs to be perfect.
Nothing even needs to be good.
Sometimes drawing a flower is enough. Sometimes writing your name and clearing the page is enough. Sometimes moving the cursor around for a few seconds is enough.
The Sketchbook is mostly that.
A small empty room inside the site.
A place that does not explain itself too loudly.
Draw Something
You do not have to make anything beautiful.
You do not have to keep it.
Open the page, leave a line, write your name, erase half of it, start again.
Maybe someone will open it, draw a line, and leave.
Maybe someone will write their name and export it for no reason.
Maybe someone will draw another flower next to mine.
That would be enough.