This site isn't a resume with better fonts. It's a door. Walk through it.
A portfolio is supposed to show you what someone made. I wanted this place
to show you who someone is.
That’s why there’s a game embedded in the back of the site. Not a demo reel, not a screenshot carousel: a game you can actually play, right here, at /euthymia. I built the world first and the resume second, because the world is the honest part. The code can be faked. The imagination can’t. Anyone can list skills. Not everyone can show you the inside of their head and invite you to walk around in it.
The tagline of this site has always been poetry and programming, and I mean it in both directions. The programming has to sing a little, and the poetry has to compile. Every petal here is both: a thing I built and a thing I felt. The weird ones are load-bearing. The technical ones have heart. Nothing here is decoration.
Think of the petals as rooms. Some are workshops: you can see the tools, the process, the mess. Some are chapels: quieter, stranger, not trying to impress you. All of them are me on a given night, in the small hours, following a thread to see where it goes. I left the threads visible on purpose.
So don’t just scroll. Click around. Play the game. Read the weird ones. Press things. The site rewards the curious: that’s by design, because curiosity is the whole interview. If you leave knowing something about how my mind works (not just what my hands can do), then the site did what it was built to do.
Meet me. I’m in here.