This website started with a quiet weekend and a random thought:

Maybe I can build something too.

I wasn’t trying to start a tech company or become a developer. I just wanted a small place on the internet that felt like mine — somewhere to write about AI, crypto, ideas, work, and whatever else I’m slowly figuring out along the way.

So I did. I spent almost the entire weekend talking to Claude, reading Hugo docs, learning GitHub, editing code, deploying pages, fixing bugs, breaking things, and trying again.

I’m not a programmer. I work in export business — products, customers, logistics. Building a website from scratch was never something I thought was mine to do.

But this time, it didn’t really feel like coding.

It felt more like talking to a very patient technical friend.

I told Claude what I wanted: a personal site about AI and crypto. Minimum. Calm. Not like a typical tech media site. And it walked me through everything, step by step.

Of course, things broke.

I tried adding a banner to the homepage, and somehow either the banner appeared or all my articles disappeared. The share button kept ending up at the bottom of the page no matter what I changed. Images uploaded fine but refused to show up. At one point I seriously wanted to close my laptop and go to sleep.

But I never felt completely stuck. Because I could just keep asking. “Why is this happening?” “What does this error mean?” “What do I try next?” And then continue.

When it finally went live, I stared at the screen for a long time.

The site is still simple. Warm beige background. A Chinese ink painting I generated — mountains, mist, a small boat, a Bitcoin symbol and an AI circle floating somewhere in the middle. A jazz player in the corner that plays while you read. I added it on purpose — because I think reading doesn’t have to be silent or serious. I listen to music when I work, almost every day. It makes things feel lighter. In a world full of short videos and constant noise, maybe sitting down with a good article and some quiet jazz is its own kind of pleasure. That’s a small part of what I want this place to feel like.

Not many articles yet. But something about it felt different from anything I’d built before.

This is actually my second independent website. Last year I built my first one — mostly figuring things out as I went, relying on outside help for the technical parts. This time, from choosing the theme to deploying to writing, it was just me and Claude. And somewhere in that process I realized: a lot of things that used to require a team are becoming possible for one person.

That’s the part that stayed with me.

For years, we’ve been building everything on platforms. Instagram. TikTok. Newsletters. Algorithms. The platforms can give you traffic, but at the end of the day, you’re still living inside someone else’s system. A website, a domain, your own content — those feel different. They’re yours in a way that a social media account never really is.

But more than that — I think AI is changing who gets to build things in the first place.

It’s not just about productivity. It’s about access. People who never thought they were technical enough can now actually start. The barrier isn’t gone, but it’s lower than it’s ever been. And that matters.

And honestly, this website is more than just a place to write about AI and crypto.

I wanted somewhere that’s fully mine — not shaped by an algorithm, not limited by a platform’s format, not dependent on anyone else’s rules.

Right now it’s about AI and crypto because that’s what I’m thinking about most. But I imagine it growing over time. Maybe startup stories. Maybe things I’ve seen and heard building a business. Maybe just ideas I can’t stop thinking about.

I don’t know exactly what it becomes. But I like that I get to decide.

I don’t know how far FlowAnRiver goes. Maybe it stays small. Maybe that’s fine.

But I know I want to keep writing here. Keep building. Keep figuring things out as I go.

Because I think that’s how most things actually get built — not after you’re ready, but after you start.

And maybe this is one of those things.