austyn's site

on lock nuts, failure, and making stuff

austyn — Thu, 04 Jun 2026 10:24:00 +0000

Good morning team!

I've mentioned it before, but for anybody who doesn't religiously keep up with all the posts here, I'm headed across the country in early fall to start on my PhD work.

I don't fly anymore, so in lieu of taking a single day of travel to get from one side of the US to the other, I'll be spending a few days (weeks?) on the road in my van, which will ultimately be my home for the duration of my PhD.

Yeah, you read that right: I'm officially becoming a vanlifer.

To head off any potential criticism at the pass, I'm not a content creator (aside from blog posts and the occasional educational YouTube video on literature), so save for some musings here and some b-roll in the videos I put out once or twice a year, don't expect to be inundated by vanlife content or anything like that.

The van conversion has been my big project really for the last few weeks (I've owned the van and most of the materials for like eight months, but the transmission shit the bed within the first month, and the dealership ghosted me, so it was in the shop for quite a while), and it's been a really interesting, fun journey, though not without its problems.

While I enjoy waxing philosophic and talking books with the best of them, it has always been super important to me to have a very wide set of skills. I've always enjoyed the label "maker," and while you won't see me creating big robots or innovating some grand new way to pour cereal with some 3D printed part, I am pretty confident in most situations that I can throw something together with my tiny little woodshop that will, at the very least, get things going again.

The van, though, has really forced me to expand my knowledge base.

Take, for example, the roof rack.

Now, it should go without saying that I am for all intents and purposes a poor college student. This ultimately means that, while I've been planning and designing this van apartment thing, the first and foremost consideration has been to spend as little money as humanly possible.

I've been able to snag deals on my battery and solar panels and stuff, but roof racks for cargo vans are EXTRAORDINARILY expensive. We're talking in the neighborhood of $2000 for a roof rack.

Absolutely insane. There's no way I was going to spend a significant percentage of the price of my van on a roof rack, especially given that it only had to support a couple of solar panels.

So what to do?

I spent a decent amount of time wandering around Lowes and poking through the cut offs at my local metal shop just trying to find something that would work, and I ultimately settled on Unistrut. It's cheap (compared to extruded aluminum), it's super versatile (I swear I'm not sponsored), and while I'd only used my angle grinder for cutting river rock tiles and some heavy duty sanding, I had the tools on hand.

I spent like $140 on struts and hardware, then headed home to try and figure it out.

Among the hardware I purchased were stainless steel bolts, lock washers, and a not insignificant number of nylon lock nuts. I didn't have a great plan for how I'd put this thing together, so I just followed my heart when I bought all the bits and pieces.

Fast forward a day or so: I'd done all my measurements, cut the struts, riveted panels together, bolted everything in place, and mounted it all on top of the van. A hundred bucks of hardware replaced a two-thousand dollar roof rack, so problem solved, right?

I was feeling good, nursing the cuts and scrapes that I assume come with rookie metal fab. As I showered the day's worth of sweat and grime off, I was picturing driving down the road with my new solar setup, and I couldn't rid myself of the mental images of my massive sail of steel and aluminum tearing off and smashing into some poor shmuck's windshield on the highway.

Laying in bed, I poured over every site I could find detailing the specific hardware for automotive fixtures.

Nylon lock nuts and lock washers are both recommended for high vibration uses (like driving down the highway), and it turns out the Loctite I used was exactly the right type for my purposes.

I slept soundly, for the most part, and I've been thinking about that since.

First thing's first: this is by no means me patting myself on the back for being so smart and knowing all the things, but I definitely felt a real sense of accomplishment and satisfaction just for having the right instincts.

It's stupid niche knowledge that I rarely ever use, and it's something that I could have just looked up real quick, but there's something kinda cool about having that info tucked away in my brain. I couldn't tell you where it came from; it may have been some YouTube videos, or it could have been from when we made a soup can muffler for my dad's car when I was super young -- I have no clue, but it's up there for some reason.

So, why does this matter? Why is it worth writing about?

I'm often the oldest dude in my classes, but I'm still a relatively young guy. My parents had a computer in the house growing up, but I didn't really become a legit netizen until my mid- to late-teens. Most of the time, when I wanted to know something, I had to look it up in an actual book. I still have dictionaries and thesauruses (thesauri? who knows) from my childhood, and I get a little giddy when I see those World Books in used bookstores. I have a McMaster Carr catalogue buried in a desk drawer somewhere, and I treasure both my pocket and my full size Desk Refs.

Don't confuse this as some kind of derision against the internet or anything like that; I'm a huge internet goober now, and I frankly struggle to consider what it'd look like if I didn't have the world at my fingertips.

That said, while I struggle to picture how I'd go about my day without my phone or computer or tech or whatever, days spent making stuff help illuminate what that'd look like:

[If my dogs didn't wake me up in the morning, I'd still be up and moving at a reasonable time (thank you The Air Force for building a halfway decent internal clock in my brain). I make a pot of coffee every morning, but I'm confident I could do it over an open fire if I had to (because God knows I'm not skipping my coffee). I know I've got to make some headway on this van, so I take stock of what I have in the garage, then hop in the car for the hundred-and-first trip to Lowes for this project -- no GPS necessary (this is, after all, the hundred-and-first trip; I'd be ashamed of myself if I didn't know how to get there by now). I don't know what I need, but the employees are nice (even though I'll do everything in my power to avoid even making eye contact with them), and I've got half a brain at least, so I'm pretty sure I can find stuff that works. Truck back home, and start cutting stuff. My headphones are all dead (oh how I miss the days of my iPod and wired headphones (though that's the subject of another post)), so I throw in ear plugs and quietly work until it gets dark. Hopefully I've finished the project for the day, but any headway is nice. I head inside, take a shower, and collapse in bed, wiped out from a decent day's work.]

There's an interesting conversation to be had, I think, about the fact that I can lay out the entire last paragraph of things in a way that sounds triumphant when, in reality, that's just how we did things like fifteen years ago. There's also an interesting conversation to be had about the fact that I felt the need to caveat it with "I'm pro-technology! I'm pro-working smarter not harder! I'm pro-using all the tools at your disposal!"

I often find myself pondering why, on days when I'm all but unplugged, I feel a profound sense of satisfaction by the time I go to bed. I can call upon knowledge buried in the back of my brain, use maths that I hated as a kid, I can put something together that didn't exist twelve hours prior.

And, to highlight one more little thing in this impossibly long post, I can fail, and everything will be okay.

Yesterday, my big project for the van was my sleeping solution. I'm going a little off the beaten path for my van, mostly because it's going to be something of a scholarly haven for me (unlike other folks building their vans, where things like bicycle storage and massive battery banks take up huge swathes of space), so I've been dwelling on a way to convert my sleeping space from a bed to a table. I had a bunch of ideas, but after seeing this strange convertable table at Ikea, I opted to put together a shelf on wheels which on one side has a platform which folds down into the bed, and the other has a booth table top (it makes sense in my brain, and I was able to mock up a version in CAD which I was happy with). My laptop was dead yesterday morning, and I really didn't care to fish out the charger and figure all that out, so I just went into the garage and started taking measurements in the van and cutting plywood.

It went fairly smoothly, all things considered. I found some old casters, cut out all the wood, made supports, and glued and nailed together the main frame for the structure. By the end of the day, I had what was essentially a bookshelf on wheels.

The problem is, it just barely fit inside the van -- I'm only able to maneuver it inside the space because it's not complete, so the top half of the structure flexes under the ceiling. Turns out I didn't take into account the height of the casters in my design.

Now I have a shelf which I can just barely wedge into my van, and which took a full day to put together.

And it's glued and nailed, which means I can't just take it apart and fix it, I'll have to be a little destructive to get the thing fitting properly.

Don't get me wrong, I was pretty pissed. I started to beat myself up, but then it occurred to me that it really wasn't that big of a big deal. In total, I lost about two square feet of cheap, crappy plywood (of which I have plenty), and maybe thirty minutes of work? It was easy to gut-check the fact that this error had cost me the entire day of work, but in reality, it really hadn't.

I'd fucked up, but I'm confident I can fix it, and I know to pay attention a little closer next time.

After all is said and done, I think those are some of the best parts about making stuff. The maker in all of us logs away little details about materials; it notes the weird, creative assembly options for furniture and other cool stuff. It evaluates our skill sets and lets us believe we can do something, and when we mess up, it stores away the lessons learned and updates that internalized skill set (often times noting that we're more capable than we thought we were when we woke up this morning rather than less). The more we do, the more we stretch our skillsets, the less complicated the world feels. We feel more able, and things feel less out of reach.

I think that's pretty neat.

Until next time.

Austyn</li> </ul>

contact & RSS

austyn — Thu, 28 May 2026 10:28:00 +0000

By popular demand, I've made some changes to the site which you may or may not have noticed: A contact email and RSS feed.
I won't belabor the whole email thing, I'm sure anybody reading this already knows and understands what email is and how it works. I opted for email as opposed to a comment feature for a few reasons:

There's no need to moderate an email for content.</li>
Email is way easier (which is the goal with this site: return to the simpler era of the interwebs).</li>
Hopefully email means that folks will be a bit more intentional with any communications to me (as opposed to dipshit comments in a feed from some random passerby to the site; you don't necessarily have to be super prosaic when chatting with me, if that's not obvious based on how I write).</li> </ul>
RSS, I have learned, is a bit of a different beast, so I figure it'd be good to both drop a quick primer on what RSS actually is, as well as how to use it.
For all intents and purposes, I understand RSS (RDF Site Summary or Really Simple Syndication, according to Wikipedia) as a way to aggregate all your favorite things into one single feed: If you want to read the latest Substack article from your favorite author, my entries, and every Reddit post from your micro-niche subreddits all on a single app without having to remember any URLs or check those locations every couple of minutes, you set up an RSS reader.
The other bonus as far as RSS goes in the modern era is the fact that most modern readers can functionally act as a means by which you can be notified of new posts across the gamut of your special interest sites (which is one of the main reasons I set this up here; people kept asking me to update them when I post, and I frankly don't want to do the extra work).
Full disclosure, I'm not going to recommend any applications or RSS readers or anything to you (I'm both a relatively new Linux user on the PC side of things AND I've been shifting toward FOSS for all things cellular and all that, so any suggestions I'd have would likely just be kinda dumb). The only thing I can say is the fact that RSS is an old technology, so there are tons of great options out there. Just do a quick search and snag the first one you can find that seems intuitive and that you like (and, importantly, that is free; this is old tech, so don't get swept up into some dumb subscription which gives you fancy colors or whatever).
As far as how to set it up, I believe all you need to do is copy the RSS link on the bottom of the page and paste it into your RSS aggregator of choice, then it should automatically grab the posts any time I (or any other sites you subscribe to) submit them.
Something to be aware of: depending on your aggregator of choice, there's a chance you'll miss out on any cool formatting or whetever may exist in a post (i.e. my sick themed pictures) just because RSS works by essentially scraping the raw text from the site and regurgitating it into your feed.
Anyway, I think that's it? Feel free to shoot me an email if you want to chat or are interested in my thoughts on something for whatever reason, and I look forward to hearing from folks!
Until next time.

Austyn</li> </ul>

memorial day

austyn — Mon, 25 May 2026 12:22:00 +0000

In a past life, I used to be in the Air Force. I don't normally advertize that fact (notionally because I'd like to leave that chapter of my life well closed for a myriad of reasons), but sometimes, while I may give "Temu Jesus" vibes according to some close friends, and while I do everything in my power to leave that period of life in the past, there are a few times where I feel like it's worth taking a few minutes to remember some important people.
I think it's safe to say that for most veterans, Memorial Day is a little tough to say the least. I grew up in a military environment, and at least while I was a kid, Memorial Day tended to blur with Veteran's Day in my mind. The gang from my dad's work got together, be it on the beach, at a park, or in someone's yard, and everyone grilled burgers and hot dogs and drank shitty beer.
I didn't understand what we were celebrating, not truly, only that we were celebrating.
Fast forward a decade or two, and the memories of being the designated driver for a mass of drunk airmen have been all but replaced by those of being the drunk airman sitting in the back of a friend's car, hating that we could celebrate those we loved.
On days like today, years removed from those moments, those times of cheap alcohol shared with the closest family I think I'll ever have, I feel the need to return to that chapter of my life, to sit in that miasma of discomfort and recognize that I don't think I'd really understand how much I love the people around me had I not lost more than I care to count.
It's not often that I relish the idea of digging up those old memories, of claiming that past, but on days like today, I don't feel like I'm doing it for me. Hell, I'd even argue that it's not me who drives me to this place, but instead my lost friends, those to whom this day is dedicated.
I'm not a particularly spiritual man, I don't think, but I sometimes feel like on the dates on the calendar marked by tragedy or even the simple act of rememberance, my friends are closer than they normally are, and I hope they can hear me.
I hope they understand that, while the day is a sad one, morose in the broadest sense of the word, we celebrate them. I hope they know that the tears shed aren't just from loss, but also from the joy of having known them. I hope they know that while days like today are helpful in providing a moment of pause and rememberance, not a day goes by where they aren't on our minds.
I hope they understand that even on those days where their names fall just outside of arm's reach, they still inform our every action.
It feels trite to put it into words, but it's true.
Speaking from personal experience, the party line when you lose someone close to you while on active duty is that their death has to mean something. I vividly recall being told that "so-and-so would have wanted ____." Often, they would have wanted us to carry on, to keep working, to fight the good fight.
To say that sentiment is upsetting is an understatement.
My friends and I spoke at length about this at the time, about how infuriating it was to hear leadership put words in our dead friends' mouths in an attempt to get us back on track, to get us back on the grind.
It's not much easier to stomach, but I think I understand where they were coming from a little better now.
At the time, it felt like we were being told to forget our feelings, that our friends would have wanted us to carry on as if nothing had happened. Obviously that wasn't the point in the slightest. I'm definitely not here to defend military leadership or anything, but it's sometimes hard to remember that at the end of the day, these people are humans too, and while they had the same words and the same feelings we did, there was an institutional pressure to get back into things. The world doesn't stop turning for one man.
But fuck me, it should.
The worst part of it all, I think, is knowing that the apparatus that lead to those losses never really knew those people, never really cared about them. There's something to be said about how ruthlessly efficient the military industrial complex is when it comes to dealing with profound loss.
Rally the search party, ground the fleet, hold memorial services, get back to work.
Nobody would ever say it's good enough, but like I said, it was the going rate.
Without a doubt, there's a certain logic in returning to a norm when dealing with grief. I'm no expert, but while I've read enough books that talk about the importance of maintaining a sense of normalcy in trying times, I sometimes wonder in times like these if now is the time to sit in the grief that was taken from us in the moments relegated to normalcy.
In Jarhead, Anthony Swofford frames the narrative of the memoir around digging out his footlocker from the basement and sifting through it. I don't have the book in front of me right now, so I'm paraphrasing a bit, but he makes the point that we're meant to parse those memories and trauma, to make meaning of it all, but we can't. Instead, we end up pushing those feelings around, stacking them in the corners of a ruck which lives conveniently out of reach, all in the hopes that we're not faced with the task of retrieving them.
That exercise in stowing away those feelings, the relationships that were torn from us, the trauma of baring witness, it's something that doesn't ever feel easy in the moment, but the military makes you really good at it.
It's on days like these, though, that I feel like it's time to dust off that footlocker, to pull those memories out, not with the intent to reshuffle them away, but instead to sit with them, to relive them as much as I can bare.
At the risk of breaking whatever illusion of stoicism may exist between my words and you, dear reader, I want to talk briefly about the anger that comes with all of this.
While it's a mainstay in any good bit of military lit, I feel like it's misrepresented, or at the very least as though my feelings have never been really adequately rendered, so I'm going to see if I can't put some words down here that feel appropriate (and I apologize in advance if I go off the rails, I'm writing off the top of the dome, as per usual here).
During the rescue and recovery efforts just after a major disaster, every synapse in your brain seems to fire in sync. There is no time for rest, no effort more important than the one directly in front of you, namely to bring your family back home. As the rescue efforts drag on, first through hours, then days, you start to tell one another stories. You bank on the fact that your brother swam away from the wreckage and is chilling on a fishing boat, joking and smoking as he watches the combined efforts comb the waters looking for him.
All the while, an impotent rage builds, smouldering at first, stoked by every moment where your efforts feel like they're in vain.
After a few days of exhausting efforts, work you wished you'd never have to do, work you didn't even know you were capable of, your commander mentions that there's a meeting in the morning with the entire unit where updates will be shared. As one would expect, very little information goes out through unofficial channels, so you and your team are left to craft a narrative among one another as to what the news will be.
You raise a toast to your brother the night before, sure that you'll wake up to a selfie in the group chat of him chilling on an island beach near the site.
You know you're wrong, but it's what you need.
Morning comes, and it brings with it the worst possible news. His body was identified.
The dam breaks. Impotent rage mingles with profound grief in a torrent of emotion that you hope you'll never feel again.
And you don't; not really. You find yourself microdosing fury and grief whenever you see something that reminds you of him, of the situation: a helicopter flies overhead, you open a map on your computer, a young family passes by.
I don't know the truth of this, but I heard once that anger is a secondary emotion, that it comes as a result of a primary emotion like fear or sadness. Sometimes that makes sense, but I feel like it robs anger of what it is owed.
Microdosing grief feels weirdly appropriate, if only because you know it will slowly fade. The anger, though, doesn't seem to fade, at least not for me. Looking back on the day we got the news, sadness felt like the white gesso priming the canvas: the emotional background tinting every moment back then.
The anger, though, is vivid. Every memory seems painted with vibrant hues of rage and fury. It's the closest you've ever been to madness as you understand it, and every time you're reminded of those moments, it feels like that madness takes the place of the ink with which your story is written.
I'm not an angry man, but I know angry men, and in these moments, I feel like I understand them more closely than I ever have.
I don't think I have good words to wrap up this post. It feels too easy to say that I'm sad, that I'm angry, that I hold a hate in my heart which can only be understood by my siblings who also wear memorial bracelets.
It feels harder to say that, for some strange reason, all of that vitriol and grief seems to paint love with a vibrancy that I can only aspire to capture with words.
This is not an attempt to find meaning, to be clear. Those we've lost deserve infinitely more than we could possibly give them, and it feels almost selfish to settle a sense of meaning in their deaths.
There is no good end to this. I don't think it'll ever really end.
There's a part of me that thinks it shouldn't.
Until next time.

Austyn</li> </ul>

about

austyn — Sat, 09 May 2026 14:55:00 +0000

a repo for my thoughts
I'm Austyn (if that's not obvious), thanks for stopping by.
We'll call this a blog for now, but it may become more than that at some point.
As I prep to move across the country to start my PhD, I've had a few folks tell me that I should start a blog so they can keep track of what I'm up to, so this is that.
I can't promise any through-line to posts on here outside from my perspective on the things going on around me. I'm obviously an academic, I make stuff, I travel, I'm trying to learn Linux and programming and web dev, etc.
Hell, I could write about putting together a lego set. Who knows.
Regardless, thanks for reading. I'll see about putting together a feedback mechanism, but just reliably posting blog posts has been a learning curve for me, so be patient.
Thanks again.

Austyn</li> </ul>
Contact</h2>
If you want to get in touch, send me an email. contact@austynssite.com</a>

graduation

austyn — Sat, 09 May 2026 11:57:00 +0000

Well gang, relatively big moment over the last few days.
You're now reading the words of Austyn, Master of English.
So yeah, you could say I'm a pretty big deal now.
It's weird, a friend asked me if I feel any different now that I've graduated, and I obviously said no, which I guess may not have been the right answer. I've been thinking a lot about that over the last few days, so I figured it could be interesting to write about here.
About 6 weeks ago, while violently procrastinating writing the capstone/thesis I'd been researching and ruminating on for the better part of a year, I decided it'd be a good idea to build a split keyboard--I'd been typing nonstop for days, my wrists hurt as a result, and it only made sense to move toward a more ergonomic setup if writing and academia is the long-term goal (which it is).
Fast forward through a couple of days of research, deciding a pre-built is too expensive, and a week of parts shipping time. I had all the parts neatly organized on my table, my soldering iron was heating up, and I was breathing like Darth Vader in my filtered mask (to avoid lead poisoning from my lead-free solder, naturally) while reviewing the instruction video on my phone for the umpteenth time.
I was anxious, nervous, and more than anything excited to see if I could do this. Don't get me wrong, I'm a fairly handy guy, but save for some shitty wire-nut work on a miniature to make the LED's in Gandalf's staff and the Balrog's whip light up, I was basically flying blind.
The build process was a bit of a blur, and I definitely melted a plastic component or two, but by the end of the evening, I'd built my split keyboard. Sure there were some bridged contacts and enough leftover flux to render the things completely useless without a good fifteen minutes of work with a toothbrush and some isopropyl alcohol (for future reference, while it works, the plumber's flux at the hardware store is a bit messier than the purpose-made stuff for electronics work), but after a day or so of cleaning and troubleshooting, I had my keyboard.

I felt a greater sense of accomplishment at that moment than I did when I walked across the stage to get my diploma.
I'm not really sure why. Maybe it's a symptom of this consumerist post-capitalist hellscape that we find ourselves in, the fact that my creation of an object and the fact that I saved like 40 dollars on a thing I barely knew existed two weeks prior; maybe it marked a new skill I could claim in my repertoire; maybe the dopamine hit was more concentrated since the project was faster. I don't know.
I don't know that I'm even as proud of myself for having gotten my MA as I am for having successfully soldered some switch sockets onto a PCB, and while I haven't hit the nail on the head yet as to why, I think it may have something to do with the feeling of finality, or lack thereof.
Academia may just be a weird beast. I'm supposed to start work on my PhD in the fall, which I'm absolutely looking forward to, and I wonder whether that has something to do with all of this. I almost feel like, while I've obviously hit a milestone with the MA and all that, this feels like a phase of life that has only just begun, like there's still so much to do.
It's not so much a sense of completion as much as it is a feeling of beginning, of initiation. It's almost like I've earned a new sense of purpose, and now I have so many more irons in the fire that I don't feel like I have the time to celebrate or feel a sense of accomplishment because there's so much more work to be done.
I expressed that to my friend, and she advised I try to learn how to relax, but I don't really want to.
I think I like this feeling of purpose, even if it is indicative of more work down the line.
I dig work, I dig projects.
I soldered a keyboard, so obviously I can do pretty much anything.

Austyn</li> </ul>
P.S. I wrote this on my split keyboard, and it's currently 1243. This post shouldn't have taken an hour to write. This fucking keyboard only has like 34 keys, and I still don't know how to type most of the special characters because apparently I never really learned to touch-type properly. Who knew that you're meant to hit both the 'G' and 'B' keys with your left index finger? I didn't.

Site Setup Thoughts

austyn — Fri, 17 Apr 2026 21:45:00 +0000

Okay, this is the first real post, though you'll probably see both at the same time.
It is what it is.
Spent the last hour and change working on setting up this site, "a repo for my thoughts." Got it pretty looking with the basic navigation setup and everything.
I'm pretty sure it all works. I'll probably do some more messing around with it in the future, but I wanted to get something decent out there.
Quick rundown, I think the last time I worked with web development was legitimately in elementary school in the early 2000s? So, not going to lie, I followed a litany of tutorials on how to use Zola (which is just the static site engine I'm using; ultimately it just makes things easier to work with once I get all the config set up) and I snagged the style.css info from some other sites I dig, so here we are.
I'm only like 25% sure I understand what's happening on the back end, but I'm learning as I go, which is the point here.
My big goal, to steal the verbiage from cyberspace.online</a>, is to carve out a quiet corner of the internet, like it was supposed to be, while also learning about how this stuff works. Back in the aughts and early tens, I heard quite a few times that it's worth getting a locale on the web to put all your stuff so folks can find you, so this is that. I'd waffled on setting something like this up, I had a fiction writing "blog" through Wordpress that I wasn't super happy with, a Squarespace website (which was something? I don't even remember what I put there), and I've been posting some of my research on GitLab, but again, it felt a little cluttered and not exactly what I wanted.
After a Veronica Explains</a> video popped up on my YouTube feed where she described her static site, I thought it may be worth just pulling the trigger and figuring it out myself, so this is that. I didn't do exactly what she did, but it works, and as I understand it, I can migrate if I need to.
The intent long term is to just throw stuff on here. No promises on what it'll be (I'm about to start my PhD work, I'm a bit of a privacy/security nerd, I'm futzing my way around Arch Linux, I'm road tripping soon, etc.), so the plan is just to drop whatever on here and we'll get what we get. I like to learn new things, so that stuff will probably find its way here at some point.
I think I'm going to figure out how to set up an RSS feed here if you want notifications or whatever, but I'm not planning on being invasive or anything, so if you want to read what's next, just keep an eye on the page. If folks want, I can see if I can figure out some kind of commenting/feedback mechanism, but it's not super high up on the list of things to do. I kinda prefer shouting into the void for now. I may set up an email you can ping, but again, we'll see.
So yeah, hey. What's up? Thanks for reading.
Much love, Austyn.

hello_world

austyn — Fri, 17 Apr 2026 21:04:00 +0000

first post. site is live.
more to come.

austyn's site

on lock nuts, failure, and making stuff

contact & RSS

memorial day

about

Contact</h2> If you want to get in touch, send me an email. contact@austynssite.com</a></p>

graduation

Site Setup Thoughts

hello_world

Contact</h2>
If you want to get in touch, send me an email. contact@austynssite.com</a></p>