You had the idea. You opened the editor—maybe for the first time, maybe after years away—and you just started. The AI filled in the blanks, the code flowed, and somewhere between midnight and 2am you had something that actually worked. Something you made.
That feeling is real. The thing you built is real.
But it's still running on your laptop.
Vibe coding has unlocked something extraordinary: the ability for people with vision and curiosity to build software that would have taken a team of engineers just a few years ago. That's not hype—it's happening right now, every day, to people who never thought of themselves as developers.
But there's a gap between it works on my machine and it's live, it's stable, and people are using it.
That gap has a name: production.
And production is where most vibe-coded projects quietly die. Not because the idea was bad. Not because the builder gave up. But because the path from "working prototype" to "real product on the internet" is paved with things nobody tells you about:
This isn't about learning the hard way. It's about having someone in your corner who already did.
I've spent over two decades building, scaling, and sometimes rescuing software systems. I've worked at the intersection of engineering and product at companies ranging from scrappy startups to growth-stage fintechs. I've designed data platforms, built APIs, architected cloud infrastructure, led engineering teams, and shipped products that handle real money and real people's livelihoods.
I've seen what separates the products that make it from the ones that don't. It's rarely the idea. It's almost never the code. It's almost always the infrastructure, the process, and the institutional knowledge that experienced engineers carry around in their heads like it's common sense—because for them, it is.
That knowledge is what I bring to you.
Twenty-five years of professional history is on LinkedIn if you want to verify the receipts.
Here's something most consultants won't tell you: I'm not waiting by the phone.
I have a full-time senior engineering role. I work on hard problems during the day. I'm not a freelance shop, I'm not an agency, and I'm not trying to fill a pipeline with clients.
But here's what makes this moment different: for the past two years, AI coding tools have been central to how I work—not as a novelty, not as an experiment, but as a core part of my daily engineering practice. I've used them to build production systems at my day job. I've used them to build side projects. I've shipped real things, hit real walls, and figured out what it actually takes to get AI-assisted code from a promising prototype into something that runs reliably in the world.
I'm not observing the vibe coding wave from the outside. I'm in it.
That means when you show me what you've built, I'm not translating from a foreign language. I know the tools you used. I know the patterns they produce. I know the shortcuts they encourage and the gaps they leave. And I know exactly which of those gaps will bite you in production and which ones you can safely ignore for now.
What that also means for you: I have no incentive to oversell the engagement. I'm not going to drag out the timeline to run up hours. I'm not going to recommend complexity you don't need. I'm here because I find this work genuinely interesting, not because I need the invoice.
What I bring is the same hard-won judgment I apply every single day: what to build, what to skip, what to do properly, and what's good enough for now. Applied to your project, on a realistic timeline, with honest expectations on both sides.
This isn't a rescue operation you can throw money at to move faster. It's a focused engagement with someone who's been in the trenches with these tools and knows what actually matters.
If that sounds like what you need, we'll probably work well together.
I meet you where you are. Whether you have a working prototype, a half-deployed project, or a vision that exists entirely in a document, we start there.
We'll find the right home for your project—the right cloud, the right hosting model, the right database—and we'll get it deployed. Properly. With a real domain, real SSL, real reliability.
Every time you make a change, you shouldn't have to manually push files or pray nothing breaks. I'll set up a deployment pipeline so that shipping an update is as simple as saving your work. Automated, repeatable, and safe.
Once something's live, you need to know it stays live. I'll wire up the monitoring and alerting basics so you're not finding out about downtime from an angry message from a friend.
The thing that hosts five users gracefully can collapse under five hundred. I'll help you think about scale before it becomes a crisis—without over-engineering it before you need to.
You don't need to become a security expert. But your users' data deserves basic protection, and I'll make sure the obvious doors are locked.
Sometimes you just need someone to look at the error message with you. Or sanity-check the architecture. Or talk through whether to add that feature now or later. That's available too.
You're a founder, creator, or professional with domain expertise in your field—and you've discovered that AI lets you build things you couldn't before. Maybe you're a consultant who built a tool to automate your own workflow and realized other people need it too. Maybe you're a domain expert with a product vision who's been slowly assembling it in stolen hours. Maybe you're an operator who can see exactly what software would solve a real problem in your industry.
You're not trying to become a software engineer. You're trying to build a business—or a tool, or a product, or an experiment—and you need someone who speaks both languages: the language of vision and momentum, and the language of servers, deployments, and production systems.
That's the translation I provide.
Some people sneer at the term. I don't.
The best software has always been built by people who cared deeply about the problem they were solving. Formal credentials matter less than most gatekeepers will tell you. The tools have changed—radically, recently—and that change has genuinely democratized who gets to build.
What hasn't changed is that software running in the real world needs to be reliable, maintainable, and secure. The vibe got you here. Experience gets it across the finish line.
I take both seriously.
My time is scarce. That's not a sales tactic—it's just true. I have a demanding day job, my own projects, and a finite number of hours. I work with a small number of people at a time, and I price accordingly.
$2,500–$5,000
A fixed-scope engagement to take your working prototype and deploy it properly. Real infrastructure, real pipeline, real domain. Scope defined together after the intro call.
$1,500–$2,000/month
A standing engagement for founders who want an experienced engineer in their corner on an ongoing basis. A few hours a month, used intentionally. You get someone who knows your stack, your goals, and your constraints—and can tell you what to do next.
$300/hr
For scoped work that doesn't fit a sprint or retainer. Billed honestly, scoped clearly.
Engagements start at $2,500. If that number hurts a little, good—it means you're taking it seriously, and so will I.
The first conversation is free and fifteen minutes. But before we get there, I need three to five sentences from you:
What did you build, where does it live right now, and what's blocking you from sharing it with the world?
That's the intake. No essay required. No pitch deck. Just enough for me to know whether I can actually help you—and for you to get clear on where you actually are.
If what you send is interesting, we'll find fifteen minutes.
Get in Touch