For the past six years, I’ve been a software engineer. But before that, I was just a kid with a Mechanix set, endlessly building things. That little engineering kit was my gateway to joy — a way to channel my curiosity into something tangible.
Somewhere along the way, that changed.
Education, degrees, work, and life took over. I stopped making time for that kind of curiosity. Sure, I had moments where I wasted time, but more importantly, I lost the drive to build. The urge never fully disappeared — it just stayed buried, waiting for the right moment to resurface.
And now, it finally has.
We’re living in the AI era. Things are moving faster than ever. Building virtual projects has become incredibly easy — almost too easy. You can spin up an idea and ship it in a week. There’s less friction, fewer constraints, and often, fewer meaningful challenges.
But physical projects? They’re different.
They come with uncertainty. They force you to think, to iterate, to fail. There’s something deeply satisfying about completing a milestone you can actually see and touch. Holding your progress in your hands. Watching an idea take shape in the real world.
That’s the kind of challenge I’ve been missing.
So what sparked this shift?
On a recent trip to the US, I picked up a Metal Earth model of the DeLorean from Back to the Future.
And while building it, something clicked.
It brought back a feeling I hadn’t experienced in years — the same joy I felt as a kid tinkering with motors, ICs, and scraps. Building. Breaking. Experimenting. Failing. And then, finally, creating something better than I had imagined.
That process — that feeling — is what I want again.
So, what am I building?
That’s a secret for now.
But I do have a plan.
I’ve ordered an ESP32 learning kit and I’m starting from the basics — learning how to program, control, and build with it. Once I’m comfortable and can execute ideas without completely breaking things (hopefully), I’ll begin my first real physical project.
I’m giving myself three months.
And this time, I’m going to document the journey as I go.
I’m excited.
This feels like the start of something important.