I'm Anuja. I make things — with my hands, with words, with heat, with code — and I honestly can't stop. It isn't discipline; it's closer to a compulsion. When I'm making something, I'm back in my happy place: the kid who drew and painted, long before any of this was a job.
Some days I really like myself. Some days I don't. Some days I wonder how far I've actually come. But I don't run from things, and I keep chasing — that's probably my problem. I'm a mother of two, hands always busy with love, still making in whatever fifteen minutes the day leaves me. This is me, unfiltered.
I'm Anuja
The unfiltered version — the person behind the machine.
Two masteries with decades behind them — design and cooking — and a long shelf of the rest: poetry, painting, sculpture, embroidery, a violin I chose for myself. Broad and deep is the rare shape, so I run myself like a portfolio: depth in two, love in the rest. The Marwari who went into design — and runs it like one.
Nothing I've learned has ever died; it rests, then returns when it's called. I know things, and I can learn — I've crossed the beginner's valley so many times it stopped being scary. I'm a natural dweller: I sit with a vision for as long as it takes, and the moment it's clear in my head, I begin.
What I'm made of
Where it came from
None of it began with me. My mother — a Hindi professor, thirteen degrees after 12th grade, not credentials but appetite. She painted, wrote, cooked at a level I'm still unpacking, embroidered, stitched. Left-handed, like me. Every verb here was hers first. She was absent for twenty years, and then she was gone — but the foundations held. This whole place is me carrying her forward.
The family I built
My husband, my daughter, my son. The blessing I assembled myself — the family I chose, and built.
The gear-brain was my idea before it was an image — the aura, the colour, the gears, the brain, all of it. I prompted a machine with my words until it rendered the first draft of what I was imagining. Then everything became handwork: every gear, gradient and synapse drawn — vectored in Figma, named layer by layer in Illustrator — before a single line of code.
The site itself was built with Claude Code as the engineering partner — parallel sessions, one conversation per room — with every creative decision made by me. The tool renders; I imagine and decide. That order matters.
How this was made
Every room here is an aperture. I didn't build this to be seen — I built it to see: my own life, documented, so the ordinary moments finally get witnessed.
Why it exists
Artwork — the hand-vectored gear-brain: 29 gears, named layers, drawn twice (silver, then dark).
Type — Hanken Grotesk for display and reading, Noto Sans Devanagari for the Hindi, JetBrains Mono for the machine voice.
Palette — extracted from the brain itself: silver, slate, steel, graphite, and one living teal.
Motion — three named eases: settle, enter, drift. Nothing else, anywhere.