Hello. My name is Eric.
I build websites for small practices, one at a time. There is no account manager between you and whoever is actually building the thing, because there is only me.
The person
I live in New York, NY with my wife and our two kids, who are better company than most of the rooms I spent twenty years sitting in.
I collect cards. It rewards the same things this work does: condition is everything, the value sits in details nobody mentions until one of them is wrong, and somebody always checks the corner you hoped they would not.
Before this I spent twenty years as a consultant, living out of a carry-on and billing serious miles. That work taught me exactly what a practice gets sold by an agency, what it actually costs to build, and which parts of the invoice were never for you.
I have since moved into industry, architecting enterprise systems where uptime, accessibility and security are contractual rather than aspirational. A website for a small practice sits well inside that range, which means the parts that usually get skipped on a small project do not get skipped here.
A template will get a practice online, and it will look like a template. An agency will do good work and bill for a team you never speak to. This is the third option: one person who takes on a small number of practices, writes every page by hand, and is still reachable a year later when something needs changing.
The name
A practice is three things at once.
It is the business someone has built: the name on the door, the years of clients, the reputation that brought them here. A clinic, a studio, a firm, a gym, a card shop run properly. The word does not belong to medicine.
It is the discipline itself, the thing you return to and refine and never quite finish. Nobody finishes practicing.
And it is the standard the work is held to. Best practice. Semantic structure, keyboard operation, load time, contrast: the part of a build nobody asks about and everybody depends on. That sense is the one I am accountable for.
A pixel is the other end of that scale. The smallest decision available. Line spacing, load time, the weight of a heading, the half-second before a page settles. Details nobody names, and everybody feels.
The standard
Best practice is not a preference. It is the way a thing has been agreed to be built, whether or not anybody checks. Twenty years in enterprise systems is where I learned what good actually looks like when it is contractual rather than aspirational, and that is the bar a five-page site gets held to here.
Semantic structure and headings in order. Keyboard operation on everything that moves. Contrast measured against WCAG rather than guessed at. Motion nobody asked for, removed. A page that finishes loading before somebody gives up on it. None of that is an add-on line item, on any project, including this one.
Every site is built to be fast and to stay standing. There is no content management system to be broken into, no plugin to go unpatched, and nothing to renew each year beyond the domain.
And pixel perfect, on everything I can control. Type that sits where it should. Spacing on a grid rather than by eye. Alignment that holds at 320 pixels and at 2000. Somebody else's browser and somebody else's phone are outside that. The rest is not, and the rest is most of it.
I am hands-on with all of it. I would rather show you than tell you, which is what the work is for.
Based in New York, NY, working with practices here, in New Jersey, and remotely.
The next step
Worth a conversation?
Send a note about the practice and what you need. No pitch deck, no discovery call to book a discovery call.
eric@thepracticepixel.com