Arthur Costa

Concept. Metrics, logs, traces and SLA dashboards run through my production work, so the page reads my career the way I read a slow request: one trace with a root, children, attributes and events, on one honest time axis.

What makes it mine. My name is the root span, a black bar that opens from 2016 to now with the years cut into it; the lanes beside the waterfall are my habits drawn as span links, joining records years apart; and the measured outcomes sit as span events beside the spans that produced them.

Navigation. There is no menu: the header is the trace’s minimap, its cursor follows your reading, the small portrait drills down from spans to my face as you reach now, and every section heading is itself a span on the same axis.

Typography. Fraunces, a soft book face, carries my name and every sentence, because this trace is read as a life rather than an incident; Geist Mono, the instrument, is kept for keys, ids, years and durations.

Colour and motion. Terracotta for work and ochre for own time, the two ends of Gregg’s warm ramp and neighbours of my skin tone, always named in words. Everything moves forward in time: the overview arrives like a request in flight, the gitshift replay runs at real speed, and the portrait plays once and holds.

Accessibility. Every span is a link or a button with its state announced, every animation has a text equivalent beside it, canvases are hidden from assistive technology, reduced motion shows each end state, and “Pause animation” stops everything on the page.