I have wanted to make a proper biographical website for years. Not because the internet was desperately waiting for one more page about George Anderssen, but because I have spent such a large part of my life building things online—and almost none of that life had a home of its own.
There was always a reason to postpone it. A business needed attention. A website needed launching. A community had a crisis at exactly the wrong hour. Then there was another new platform to understand, another search update, another idea that looked more urgent than writing about myself.
That is the strange thing about working on the internet for a long time: you become very good at helping other people and projects explain who they are. Your own story remains scattered across old articles, half-remembered job titles, archived websites, videos, and the memories of people who were there.
So this website is not a monument. It is a home base.
It is a place where I can put the pieces together properly: Sweden and the early commercial web, Thailand, ThaiVisa.com, digital media, BEC-Tero and Channel 3, Hua Hin, AI, and whatever comes next. Some of those chapters are already here. Others will take time—and may improve when an old colleague writes to remind me that I have remembered something completely wrong.
Owning the address
There was also one small detail that felt surprisingly important: getting a real email address on my own domain.
For years, I was perfectly reachable through Gmail. It worked, everyone knew it, and there was no practical emergency. But [email protected] feels different. It is simple, friendly and mine. Not tied to an employer, a platform, or whichever technology company happens to own the inbox this decade.
“Hi” was the right choice because it does not arrive wearing a suit. It invites a conversation. After all, the best things I have built online began with people talking to one another.
Why now?
Partly because the tools have changed. Making something useful on the web no longer has to begin with months of planning or a team meeting about button colours. AI can help organise, design and build—but it still needs a person to decide what is true, what matters, and what sounds like them.
And partly because waiting for the “complete” version is a reliable way never to publish anything. A life is not a finished document. This site will grow as I find old material, remember better details and discover new things worth writing about.
I expect this journal to wander. There will be stories from the early internet, lessons from building online communities, thoughts about Thailand, practical experiments with AI and perhaps a few observations that do not fit neatly anywhere else.
An open invitation
If you knew me through one of these chapters, I would be happy to hear from you. If you are building something now, perhaps some of the old lessons will still be useful. And if you are simply curious about where this journey goes next, you are very welcome here.
I finally have the website. I have the proper email address. Now I only have to do the easy part: keep writing.