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Design and Code, Simultaneously

2026-05-27

There's a specific kind of frustration that every designer knows.

You have a clear picture of how something should feel — the way the page breathes as you scroll, the way text appears word by word as if it's being written in real time, the way data comes alive in a visualization instead of sitting flat in a table. You can see it. You describe it. And then it enters the handoff.

The ask goes in. The timeline stretches. Testing unique functionality takes time, and getting it right takes more. Back-and-forth over implementation details, compromises made somewhere between the mockup and the browser, features quietly dropped because they were adding two weeks and the sprint was closing. Not because anyone was doing anything wrong. Just because that's how the process worked.

That tension is gone for me now.

How I work now

I work with Claude section by section — I input the brief, direct the layout, challenge it to add the interaction I actually want. Parallax scrolling. Typing effects. Custom data visualizations. The things that make a site feel alive rather than assembled. When something isn't right I don't file a ticket, I just say so. The conversation continues until it's right.

Design and code happen at the same time, in the same session. I'm not designing a mockup to hand off — I'm building the thing itself, directing it the way I'd direct a shoot or a brand presentation. The aesthetic decisions and the functional decisions are the same decision.

A multi-page site with custom functionality that used to take months now takes about a week.

What this has changed

The obvious answer is speed. But the more interesting change is creative access.

I can now ask for the thing I actually want without the answer being "that'll add two weeks." Functionality that used to live only in the aspirational column of a design brief — the interactive, the animated, the genuinely alive — is now part of the first draft.

I'm getting to play with functionality in a way I never could before. To explore. To say "what if this section responded to scroll" and see it working in minutes rather than weeks. To build something and feel it, then change it, then feel it again.

I'm experiencing this shift in real time, and that's the most exciting part of the work right now. The gap between what a designer can imagine and what they can actually build has never been smaller.

That gap is where the best ideas used to get lost. Not anymore.


Tools used: Claude