About
“The Nordic language recognizes four orders of foreignness. The first is the otherlander, or utlanning, the stranger that we recognize as being a human of our world, but of another city or country. The second is the framling … this is the stranger we recognize as human but of another world. The third is the raman, the stranger that we recognize as human, but of another species. The fourth is the true alien, the varelse, which includes all the animals, for with them no conversation is possible. They live, but we cannot guess what purposes or causes make them act. They might be intelligent, they might be self-aware, but we cannot know it.” – Speaker for the Dead, by Orson Scott Card
Hey, I go by främling — a name that’s kind of a nod to always feeling a little out of step, a little wandering, and honestly, I like it that way. I’ve always been fascinated by things that have a story or a soul: old computers, vintage tech, retro games, or anything that feels like it carries a little piece of the past with it. I spend a lot of time tinkering with stuff just to see how it works, or to relive that early-2000s magic when turning on a machine actually felt exciting.
At the core of it, I guess I’m just endlessly curious. I like spaces where I can focus, create, explore, and discover without distractions. Using the nickname främling feels right, it’s a little reminder that I’m always learning, always wandering, and always chasing the things that make me stop and smile: a song, a game, a movie, or even just a quirky detail in an old piece of tech. That’s me, in a nutshell: curious, nostalgic, and always ready to dive a little deeper.
If you wish to email me, begin by importing my GPG key; the address will reveal itself within your GPG client.
gpg --import framling.asc
GPG key fingerprint is B1212E086E48AE28A99855CDBC853A0DD54005C8 and the key is set to never expire.
My computer(s) are named from places in Myth: The Fallen Lords universe: Madrigal, Bagrada, Cloudspine, Silvermines, Shoal, Tyr.
When it comes to my computers, I’m a bit of a creature of habit. I mostly stick to macOS, though I like running an older version (Monterey) on my older machines. There’s something comforting about it: it feels familiar, stable, and just … right. My terminal setup is kind of my happy place. I use zsh with oh-my-zsh and iTerm2, and I can’t get enough of Fira Code with its ligatures, it makes staring at lines of code feel almost elegant.
But I’m not limited to just one system. Virtual machines are my safety net and playground all in one. Parallels lets me spin up separate Windows 11 ARM installs, mostly for gaming, and a few Debian Linux setups so I can tinker, experiment, or just mess around without ever touching my main environment. It’s a setup that’s part practical, part personal, and 100% tailored to the way I like to work and play. Every time I sit down at my desk, it just feels right: familiar tools, a little nostalgia, and plenty of room for curiosity.
Software I use: Affinity Photo and Designer for graphics; Word and Excel when paperwork is unavoidable; Firefox 140 ESR and Thunderbird 140 ESR for day-to-day browsing and mail; and NetNewsWire to keep up with RSS.
For development, I spend most of my time in JetBrains tools (CLion, PhpStorm, WebStorm), with Sublime Text for fast edits, Navicat for poking at databases, Forklift and Tower for moving files and wrangling git, and IDA Pro when I need to see what’s really going on under the hood. I lean heavily toward GUI tools, but I’m not afraid of the terminal: mutt, git, nano, scp, and sfeed are all fair game when they get the job done faster.
I’ve always had a pretty simple rule when it comes to my computers: never automatically upgrade. There’s something comforting about knowing exactly what’s on my machine and when it changes. I like the control, the small satisfaction of being deliberate about every tweak, every update, every little change. My firewall quietly handles a lot of the heavy lifting, keeping things safe without me having to think about it, and that peace of mind is worth more than any “latest version” sticker.
If I ever need something from a newer version, I don’t rush. I plan it, I back things up, I make sure I know what I’m getting into, and then I upgrade manually. It feels like a small act of mindfulness in a world where software often forces change without asking. I don’t download random binaries or trust sketchy websites, and my home network is NAT-ed and firewalled, so I can experiment and explore without feeling exposed.
For me, it’s not about paranoia, it’s about being professional, being intentional, and creating a space where using a computer feels calm instead of chaotic. There’s a strange kind of joy in knowing that everything on your machine is there because you put it there, and nothing is happening behind your back. Over the years, I’ve realized that this careful approach doesn’t slow me down and it actually makes everything feel more satisfying, more personal, and right.
My minimalism takes the shape of a small, deliberate circle. One laptop, the MacBook Pro that bears the weight of most days, one phone always within reach, a home server quietly breathing in another room, and one older machine, an iMac G5 I brought back this year from a different era. Nothing more than that. Each machine chosen, each kept with intention, carrying its own memory and rhythm, asking only to be used and not replaced.
- tagged with #personal
- 957 words
- published on Jan 2, 2026, last updated on Jan 19, 2026