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
Willow's Whisper~2015 • Acrylic on Canvas
This acrylic on canvas portrait utilizes a naturalistic color palette to create a sense of harmony between the subject and the outdoor environment. The artist employs a shallow depth of field effect by keeping the facial features in sharp focus while the background foliage is rendered with softer...
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 Cradle Tomb In Westminster Abbey.by Susan Coolidge (Sarah Chauncey Woolsey)
A little, rudely sculptured bed, With shadowing folds of marble lace, And quilt of marble, primly spread And folded round a baby's face. Smoothly the mimic coverlet, With royal blazonries bedight, Hangs, as by tender fingers set And straightened for the last good-night. And traced upon the pillowing stone A dent is seen, as if to bless The quiet sleep some grieving one Had leaned, and left a soft impress. It seems no more than yesterday Since the sad mother down the stair And down the long ai...