I build things. Mostly because I can’t stop wondering what they’d feel like if they existed.
I’m drawn to problems that feel slightly too big — the kind where the finish line isn’t obvious and the uncertainty is kind of the whole point. I get restless when something feels too solved, too safe. I’d rather start something uncomfortable and interesting than finish something comfortable and forgettable.
I care a lot about how things feel, not just whether they work. There’s a version of everything that simply functions — and then there’s the version that makes someone stop and actually notice. I always want the second one, even when the first would have been enough.
Most of what I’ve made came from a question I couldn’t stop turning over in my head. No assignment, no deadline — just something I needed to understand, and building felt like the only honest way to answer it.
I take the work seriously. Myself, a little less so. I like things with a bit of theater to them — some unexpected detail hiding in the corner that makes you smile when you find it. Life’s too short for things that don’t have a personality.
Still figuring out a lot. But I know I do my best work when the problem feels just slightly out of reach — and I know pretty quickly when it doesn’t.
— Yashwanth