I grew up in Algeria. I spent most of my childhood between two worlds: the quiet streets of my neighborhood and the infinite space behind a screen. Computers were never just tools to me. They were portals. I was the kid who would rather build something than play something, who found more magic in a terminal than in a toy store.At 9 I moved to Canada. The city was freezing, the language was new, and the pace was relentless. But something clicked. I was surrounded by people who thought in systems, who believed code could reshape the world. I started building,not just for school, but for the pure, almost obsessive joy of watching something come alive from nothing.Machine learning found me before I found it. I was trying to solve a problem that logic alone couldn't crack, and I stumbled into neural networks. That moment,when a model I trained produced something I didn't explicitly program,changed everything. I realized I wasn't just writing software anymore. I was teaching machines to think.One of my first personal projects was ReMind, your local artificial memory. The vision was ambitious: a second brain that lives entirely on your device, no cloud, no compromises. At the time, the technology wasn't there yet to make it as powerful as I imagined. It wasn't my best work, but it was the spark that launched me into this adventure of research and discovery. Five hundred developers starred it, which told me the idea resonated. And maybe, with what AI can do in 2026, ReMind could resurface one day. If time allows.Then came rlama, a document AI tool that connects to local Ollama models for retrieval-augmented generation. Over a thousand developers starred it. The idea was simple: give people the power to ask questions about their own documents, privately, without sending a single byte to the cloud. Built in Go, designed for speed, made for people who care about ownership.I kept pushing. SwiftRAG brought retrieval-augmented generation natively to iOS and macOS,no Python, no Docker, just pure Swift talking to local models. Then CodeGeass, a system to orchestrate AI coding agents like Claude Code and Codex with skills, approvals, and automation. Every project was a step closer to the same vision: making AI personal, local, and powerful.Opale UI is different. It's not a library or a CLI tool,it's a craft. I spent years studying what makes interfaces feel alive: the weight of a button press, the rhythm of a scroll animation, the way light plays across a surface at exactly the right moment. I deconstructed the best,rauno.me, Linear, Vercel,not to copy, but to understand the invisible rules behind beautiful software.Every template in Opale UI is built to that standard. Living cards that breathe. 3D interactions that respond to your touch. Scroll animations timed to the millisecond. Dark themes that don't just look dark but feel deep. Each one is a standalone Next.js app, production-ready, designed to ship,not just to demo.I believe the next generation of software will be built by individuals, not teams of fifty. One developer with the right tools and the right taste can outship an entire department. That's who I build for. The solo founder at 2am. The freelancer who wants their client's site to feel like magic. The engineer who knows that design isn't decoration,it's the product.If you're reading this, you probably care about the same things I do: craft, speed, and software that feels like it was made by someone who gives a damn. That's all Opale UI is, the work of someone who gives a damn.
