how it actually got built
my rule: total creative freedom
i gave myself one rule: create completely freely, depend on no one. it’s my site — so i built it exactly how i felt: no client, no committee, no template. i wanted it emotional — for whoever lands here to feel real soul went in. and one goal: build it over a weekend.
from a real photo → a happier, old-game me
i fed a real photo of myself into a Sims-style 3d generator. the first pass was rough; the next was too stiff and serious — so i asked for a happier face. that one finally looked like me on a good day.
tennis, not a contact form
i like being close to the people i work with — deep in it, together. that feels less like “work” and more like playing a sport. tennis just clicked: we rally, we enjoy the process, and through the game we build something great. so here it isn’t “let’s work” — it’s “let’s play.” we play, and enjoy the process together.
“it's you” across the net
left side: me. right side: you — a second player, deliberately a different character, on the other half of the court, with a little “it's you” arrow. the visitor isn't browsing a portfolio; they're in the match.
flat failed → a real diorama
the first court was flat — dead, like a sticker. i wanted a full 3d model, a tilted diorama you could almost lift off the screen. we redrew it until it felt like a toy.
three styles, one winner
we generated three directions: a realistic Sims look, an old-school PS1 one, and a cartoon N64 one. the cartoon was fun but cheap; PS1 felt dated. the realistic one was the cleanest and most “expensive” — that won.
the loop fought back
now bring it to life. we tried to animate the rally with AI — and it broke, again and again. the ball vanished. players froze. the loop tore on every pass. sometimes the swing ran backwards. i burned a pile of credits getting nowhere.
“yeah… we just couldn't loop it cleanly.”
a friend + a tight brief
so i stopped fighting the tool and pulled in a friend. i handed over the exact court image and a precise brief — small ball, players moving, a seamless loop — and he ran it through Hailuo. finally: a clean loop, players playing, ball in place.
selected work, floating
the work needed a home. instead of a boring grid, i built a 3d space — your cases as objects floating in a black void, drifting as you move the mouse. hover any one to read it; click it to open the case (exactly like the ball that opened this one). same toy-world, now in motion.
the icons that wouldn't sit still
the services needed objects — and this is where i iterated the most. first i tried realistic ones (a juicy cabbage, a banana). beautiful, but they didn't belong next to a clay court. then glossy — too plastic. we finally landed on plasticine.
the whole clay style is AI-made — generated in Nano Banana (and Magnific, wired into the build via mcp), then cut out by hand and dropped onto colour. €0 in stock photos. these four made the cut, one per service:
not a paragraph — a sticker collage
“about me” isn't a headshot and a bio. it's a sticker collage — a cut-out of me in the middle, surrounded by scattered fact-stickers you read at a glance: 16 billion views, McKinsey Forward, based in Germany. and the whole site speaks three languages — en · de · ua — on a single toggle, top-right. playful, human, scannable.
choosing the atmosphere
a world like this needs a soundtrack. i auditioned two — a lo-fi loop and a chill hip-hop one — and picked the chill hip-hop: calm, a little expensive, never in the way. it plays seamlessly across pages (open a case and it never stops), and the court itself carries the quiet thock of the ball. press ♪ up top to hear it.
the small things that feel expensive
then the details: a loader (a fuzzy ball + a progress ring), a sticky dock, a big capital “Heidar” (my wife's call), “let's play” instead of “let's talk”, and the bookend — a serve back to you: the ball's in your court.
don't tell them. let them touch it.
once the closing serve was done, an idea hit me. Apple never just describes a product — they put it in your hand, because the moment you touch it you want it more. so why should my last screen be a picture you only look at?
so i'm turning the bookend into a tiny game. you grab the racket with your mouse and keep the ball up — and hit ten in a row to unlock a real bonus: a free 60-minute strategy call for your brand. play → win → a reason to actually write. the game serves the message, never fights it.
the first animation was rough — the ball shot off into the distance and you couldn't tell what to do. so i iterated: a first-person court, then a clean keep-ups on the strings; the ball now lands dead-centre on the mesh (not behind the frame); a smaller, more elegant racket; harder to keep alive so it feels like a real game; and it stays quiet until you hover in — nothing moves until you choose to play.
so the closing screen isn't a picture you look at — it's a game you play. hit ten in a row and you unlock a real bonus. and the part i like most: the code is yours — take it, drop in your own racket, ship it.
that's the whole site — built in the open, every try shown. now it's your turn.
i stopped chasing quantity a long time ago. now the goal is simple — make something genuinely great, for myself and for whoever i build it with. i don’t just direct, i operate: i try, i show, i cut what’s worse, i ship. that’s what you get if we play together.
