Efficiency is Independence
I'm a retired architect building systems that don't need "Big Tech" permission to exist. I run a full web presence, mail stack, and security layer for a dozen users on 1GB of RAM. No Docker. No bloat. No bullshit.
The Engineering Repositories
The Artist's Gallery & Manuscripts
Painting
Crimson Contemplation~2015 • Acrylic on Canvas
This acrylic on canvas work focuses on the "fragmented portrait" style, where a single gesture or feature tells the story of the whole subject. The artist uses a limited but high-contrast color palette—primarily cool blues and greys punctuated by the warmth of the red nails and lips. The tight cr...
Manuscript
aioGenre: Speculative Fiction
Scene 1: The Children's Playground (Revised - Fifth Pass) The sandbox was a chaos of fine grit and flung plastic, exactly as any proper sandbox should be.
A couple of parents sat on a nearby bench, faces tipped to the sun, occasionally glancing up from their screens.
You'd think the squealing and the bits of sand clinging to every surface would get to them, but most seemed to have developed an impressive filter.
Seven-year-old Eleanor Vance, her knees already streaked with the day's first lay...
A couple of parents sat on a nearby bench, faces tipped to the sun, occasionally glancing up from their screens.
You'd think the squealing and the bits of sand clinging to every surface would get to them, but most seemed to have developed an impressive filter.
Seven-year-old Eleanor Vance, her knees already streaked with the day's first lay...
Poetry
The Log Fireby Fay Inchfawn
In her last hour of life the tree Gave up her glorious memories, Wild scent of wood anemone, The sapphire blue of April skies. With faint but ever-strength'ning flame, The dew-drenched hyacinthine spires Were lost, as red-gold bracken came, With maple bathed in living fires. Grey smoke of ancient clematis Towards the silver birch inclined, And deep in thorny fastnesses The coral bryony entwined. Then softly through the dusky room They strayed, fair ghosts of other days, With breath like early...