cindy is a
discipline
of the patient hand.
a designer, developer, and engineer rooted in the quiet precision of deliberate work. i build things that breathe slowly and hold their weight.
about
life carries its own weight. so when it came time to choose a theme for my portfolio, i wanted the decision to mean something.
an html file is a blank canvas — boundless, open, full of quiet possibility. i sat with that openness for a while, letting it breathe, before something familiar surfaced: the serene world of ancient chinese brush painting.
there's a stillness in that art form that i've always been drawn to. the unhurried strokes, the soft balance of ink and space, the way each piece says so much while leaving room for silence. it isn't mine alone — it belongs to a long and honored tradition — but it speaks to something in me.
what struck me most, though, were the stamps. small, deliberate, and red against the quiet tones of the canvas — each one a mark of identity, a signature woven into the work itself. every artist had one. every stamp told you: this came from someone.
that felt right for a portfolio. so i made it my logo — a small red mark that says the same thing: this is mine.
in my self-portrait, i chose to paint myself draped in a robe — or perhaps a short hanfu — with a fox mask resting quietly on the sleeve.
the fox, in the old stories, carries many meanings. prosperity. wisdom. a certain elusive charm that draws the eye without demanding it. it felt like the right companion to carry into this space.
see my workprojects
the greenhouse dex
this project was born from a simple desire — to make the world of gardening feel a little less overwhelming for those just finding their way into it.
the greenhouse index is a guided space for beginners and curious minds alike. at its core, an api call pulls rich botanical data, transforming raw information into something personal and useful. from there, the experience unfolds naturally — helping you understand not just what to grow, but where and why.
perhaps trailing vines or a spider plant belong in your bathroom, quietly working to keep mold at bay and the air a little fresher. perhaps you've always wondered what a certain flower is trying to say, or which herbs thrive best when kept close to one another. the index holds those answers, along with the temperature needs of each plant, so every corner of your space can be tended with intention.
it's less about having a green thumb — and more about knowing where to begin.
key opinion leader
this project lives at the intersection of clarity and care — built for the medical professionals who don't have time to wade through complexity.
at its heart, it's a minimalistic tool — thoughtfully designed in figma and brought to life through react — that allows doctors and specialists to query information and reach one another for consultations with ease. every design decision was made with intention, stripping away the unnecessary so that what remains simply works.
beneath the surface, python quietly does its work — scraping and preserving medical publications into a postgres database, held together by a flask framework. a living, breathing archive of knowledge, always ready when it's needed most.
spotify dating app
music has always had a way of finding the right people for one another. this project simply gave that a little help.
leading a team of four, we set out to build a space where spotify users could discover each other through the one thing they already had in common — the music that moves them. the result was something that felt less like an application, and more like a quiet room full of people who just get it.
conversations could unfold in real time through socket.io, while firebase worked gently in the background — encrypting user data, handling the sensitive, and keeping trust intact. react kept our development grounded and fluid, its reusable components allowing the experience to grow without losing its shape. and beneath it all, mongodb held everything together, drawing from the spotify api to make each connection feel informed and alive.
it wasn't just about matching tastes. it was about what happens after the music starts.
experience
there's something deeply human about the pull toward beauty. we pause at a well-set table, linger on a perfectly composed photograph, whisper — almost instinctively — that's beautiful.
we've been this way since the beginning, really. a caveman stumbles upon a shiny rock and suddenly — priorities shift. i understand that caveman. i am that caveman. i've always felt that pull. and somewhere along the way, i decided i didn't just want to admire beautiful things — i wanted to build them.
not beautiful in the way of something decorative and still. beautiful in the way of something that works — that moves, that responds, that earns its place on the screen. there's a difference between a pretty image and a pretty experience, and that difference lives in the details. the spacing that breathes just right. the interaction that feels inevitable. the load time you never had to think about.
pinterest taught me what it means to want to look at something. google taught me what it means to trust something. i want to live in the space between — where the first glance draws you in, and everything beneath the surface keeps you there.
performance. practicality. prettiness.
not as a checklist — but as a philosophy. a quiet standard held up against every project, every component, every line. because the most beautiful thing a digital experience can be, is one that makes someone's life feel a little more effortless — and a little more alive.
ooh. shiny.