Before any of the software, there's the discipline it serves. These tools come from a working landscape architect — so the gaps they fill aren't theoretical. Felt on the board, not guessed at a desk.
This isn’t a software company’s guess at what landscape practice needs. It comes from a working landscape architect — NSW school projects, the EFSG standard, real delivery sets — and the gaps the tools on this site fill are the ones that keep surfacing on the board.
That’s the whole foundation: a tool lands on the real pain when the person who built it does the work. So before the products, this page is just the honest part — built by one of you, not by a company adjacent to you.
A site arrives as noise: levels, trees, desire lines, drainage, a stack of code. The work is to read it as relationships, run one spine of logic through the whole thing, and resolve it into a buildable whole. The same habit, it turns out, untangles a messy workflow just as well as a messy site.
One thing to be clear about: what’s shared here is the thinking — the strategy, the method, the way of reading a place. The concept design and delivery work went into real projects, but their copyright stays with the client, so you won’t find named projects or client work here. The method travels; the drawings stay with their owners.
This is why the software is what it is. A Revit plugin that fixes terrain overlays, a desktop tool that never deletes your files, a board that knows what a DA submission is — each one lands because it was written from inside the discipline, by someone who needed it on a real deadline.
Landscape thinking isn’t the product. It’s the ground the products stand on — and the reason to trust that they solve the right problem.
Each page a 点, each link a 线, the whole a 面. Hover a node to trace its connections.