Four Days. One Mark. A Site That Gets Out of the Way.
We started with a blank repository on a Friday and a question I always ask first: what does the person on the other side actually need? Not what we want to show them. What they need.
The first sprint produced a bilingual site — German and English, running in parallel, every layout tested against German sentence lengths because German is longer and the design must hold. It produced three pillars of offering, named plainly. It produced a structure. What it did not yet have was discipline.
The second pass was mostly subtraction. Dead interface elements came out. Things that existed because someone had added them, not because a user needed them at that moment, came out. This is the work that does not photograph well but that makes everything else legible. Removal is a decision. Every pixel that stays is a claim that this pixel earns its place.
Then the rebrand. The old name served a purpose; this one serves the public. Apuna. Short, pronounceable in any language, carrying nothing we did not put there.
The logo is one mark. A road converging toward a guiding star — the star is the letter A, and the crossbar is a bracket from a line of code. That is the whole sentence. There is no background illustration, no gradient cloud, no supporting cast. A logo should say one thing precisely. This one does.
The palette is an aurora: deep navy as the canvas, cool blues and a controlled use of violet as accent. Aurora light is not decoration — it is rare, it is structural, it clarifies the dark rather than obscuring it. That is what colour should do on a screen. We did not add warmth because warmth felt inviting. We added colour where it carries meaning.
The team page has flip cards. Front: name, role, a mark. Back: one paragraph of biography. The entire card is the touch target — no small button in the corner, no hover effect that only half-works on mobile. You touch it, it turns. That is the interaction. Nothing more is needed.
Tonight the site is public at apuna.dev. Four days of work. The measure is not how much we added.