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I just rebuilt the landing page for Lunarye™ Studio using nothing but the bare-bones web stack: plain HTML and CSS, plus a few lines of Vanilla.js that could be deleted without breaking anything. What started as a “what-if” experiment—writing code in 2025 the way we did in 2005—turned into the most satisfying build I’ve had in years.

The workflow was almost absurdly simple. Create an index.html, open it in Notepad, and start typing. Every element is a humble <div> or <p>; every style is a raw CSS property. No abstractions, no magic—just the browser and me.

No component library to wrestle with, no build step to wait for. Save the file, hit refresh, see the change instantly. That immediate feedback loop felt like stepping back into my first days of making websites, when every keystroke had instant consequences.

The biggest win was regaining full control. If I wanted a button nudged two pixels to the left, I edited the margin value—no Tailwind lookup table, no risk of clashing with preset styles. Design decisions traveled straight from my head to the screen without detours.

Speed surprised me too. I expected hand-coding to be slower, but skipping dependency installs, version conflicts, and bundler configs saved hours. When something broke, the fix was always obvious: check the markup, tweak the CSS, or trim a couple of JavaScript lines. The browser’s dev tools were more than enough.

Performance was immediate. The entire site ships at just over 20 KB. No framework overhead, no hydration delays—click a link and the next page is already there.

Watching the browser parse my handwritten HTML, apply the exact CSS I wrote, and run the tiny scripts I crafted feels like carving wood with a sharp knife: every cut deliberate, every surface honest. When the problem is small and the goal is clear, the oldest tools in the shed can still be the fastest—and the most fun.