A little over a month ago, I wrapped a project with the City of Boston. It was, in a word, tremendous. I was brought in to help the city’s Digital Service team define a new design system, and I got to do it all alongside Christine Bath, a tremendously talented designer and researcher, and one of my former coworkers from 18F. The project wove together so many of the things I most enjoy about design systems work: interviewing stakeholders, building a map of the products (and teams) the design system would need to support, and some honest, old-fashioned design work. And all in the service of helping a city government better support its constituents. It was good work with great people, and I’m honored I got to do it.

But the project’s done now. As a result, I’m thinking about what’s next; and that means I’ve updated my portfolio.

I’ll be honest: I struggle with portfolio updates. I mean, I’m extremely proud of the work I’ve done, and of the people I’ve gotten to do it with. But the exercise of pulling together a portfolio involves more than a few things I find difficult. That includes, but is not limited to:

1. distilling all of a project’s complexity into a punchy writeup, maybe a screenshot or two;
2. making my conspiracy wall-shaped skillset legible to others; and
3. talking about myself. But hey, who cares about feelings and anxieties! Capitalism sure doesn’t! I still had to, y’know, update my portfolio. So I designed a little process to help me get out my head, and start getting pixels on a screen.

— well, I say “process.” I started by looking around at a few friends’ and colleagues’ portfolios, and spending time identifying what I liked about how they showcased their work. Just a few examples:

• Naz and Rob both lead with a brief project overview, before diving into a collection of just immaculate artifacts.
• Some of Henry’s case studies are full step-by-step narratives, as in-depth as they are lovely.
• Katherine showcases snippets of design or code as best supports the story she’s telling around her work.
• Mel really invites the reader into their design process, showing the early, raw materials that ultimately build toward the final result. And honestly, after a week or so of idle field research, it was so freeing to see the sheer diversity of approaches. It really did help identify a portfolio structure that felt right to me: a single page, one that’s using a curated set of projects to (hopefully!) highlight the kind of work I like doing.

From there, I started thinking a bit more about what else I’d like to include on the page. Some things felt easy: I’ve kept the brief section outlining how I typically structure my client engagements; it’s a useful conversation starter and, as a colleague once told me, it’s helpful to let others know how they can hire you. Other things felt more difficult. Ultimately, I figured I’d lean into my [checks notes] varied skillset, and highlight it at the top of the page, along with some common themes from my design practice.

Right now, I’m happy with where things landed. But hey, look. As much as anything else on this little site, this post you’re reading is a marker. A moment. Over time my portfolio’s going to change, shift, stretch, and warp, to the point where it won’t resemble anything I’ve written up above. I’ll do different work; I’ll talk about my work differently; maybe I’ll even reconcile myself to the profound unease I feel when I’m asked to describe myself as a specific kind of digital designer in 2025-friendly terms. But for now — right now — I’ve got a new portfolio, and I’m feeling pretty proud of it.

This is all to say: I’m currently available for hire. While I typically work on a contract basis for my clients, I’m open to full-time roles if the opportunity’s right.

Thanks, as always, for reading.