Rebuilding aeoncat.com from scratch
I rebuilt this site on purpose.
Not because the old one was ugly. Not because it was “wrong.” Because it had drifted away from what I actually needed.
This is a reset. Clean slate. Fewer promises. More proof.
What was broken before
The old version tried to do too much.
It wanted to be a portfolio, a brand, a business, a blog, and a future résumé all at once. That sounds ambitious, but it creates a quiet problem: nothing feels finished, and nothing feels honest.
I spent more time adjusting layouts than shipping work. More time planning content than writing it. More time polishing than learning.
That’s a bad trade.
What I deleted
I deleted anything that didn’t earn its place.
- Overdesigned sections
- Placeholder copy meant for “later”
- Pages that existed to look complete instead of be useful
- Tools and frameworks I didn’t need yet
What stayed was simple HTML, plain CSS, and a structure I can understand at a glance.
If I can’t explain a page by reading the file, it doesn’t belong here.
The rules this time
I’m following a few rules to keep myself honest:
- Projects before polish. If something isn’t built, it doesn’t get styled.
- Content before features. No systems until there’s something to read.
- Simple beats clever. If it needs explaining, it’s probably wrong.
- Ship small, often. Working today beats perfect later.
These rules are less about design and more about momentum.
What this site is now
Aeoncat is a personal blog and portfolio.
It’s where I document what I’m building, write down what I learn so I don’t forget it, and show real work instead of curated outcomes.
That’s it. No hidden agenda.
What I’ll add later (and what I won’t)
Later, I might add more posts, individual project pages, better navigation, or dark mode.
I will not add fake case studies, buzzwords, or content written to impress instead of explain.
If the site grows, it will grow because the work does.
Closing
This rebuild isn’t about starting over. It’s about starting forward.
If you’re also learning, building, or rebuilding something that got away from you, you’re in good company.