The full Build Beautifully series, taught live over Zoom. Five sessions, three hours each, starting Sunday, November 1. You'll walk out with four working projects you built yourself — and no, you don't need to know how to code.
$150 for all five sessions. Seats are limited so I can actually help everyone.
Every Build Beautifully series so far has happened in a room in SF. Which is great, if you live twenty minutes away and nothing in your life moves.
But most of you don't. You emailed me from Austin and Lagos and Toronto and Fresno. Or you're here in the Bay and you made session one, then a work trip ate session two, and by session four you'd quietly given up on the whole thing.
So I rebuilt it for a laptop and a kitchen table. Same curriculum. Same pace. Same me, live on the call, watching your screen when you get stuck. You just don't have to be anywhere.
You saved the newsletters. Forty of them. About AI. You've read maybe three.
You started a tutorial once. It said "open your terminal and install Node." You closed the tab.
You watched someone on LinkedIn ship an app in a weekend and felt something halfway between inspired and slightly sick.
You're still doing the same six hours of manual work every week — the spreadsheet cleanup, the email sorting, the report nobody reads — that a script could do while you make coffee.
And somewhere in there you decided you're "not a technical person."
That's not a discipline problem. It's not an intelligence problem. Nobody ever sat with you through the first ten minutes — the part where the terminal looks hostile and one wrong character breaks everything and there's nobody to ask.
That's the entire job of session one.
Not "exposure to concepts." Actual things you own.
Real, working, deployed. Things you can send someone a link to, not screenshots of a course you took.
Earned, not attended. You pass a real test and submit a capstone. It goes straight onto your LinkedIn.
A cohort of women doing the same hard thing at the same time. Several of them will be useful to you for years.
Every workbook, prompt, and project file is yours to reuse. Come back to them in March when you need them.
Three hours. We build the whole time. You are not watching me demo — your hands are on your own keyboard from about minute twelve.
Terminal, folders, files — the vocabulary nobody explains. We install Claude Code together, one step at a time, and you build your first working thing before we log off. Nothing is assumed. Nothing is skipped.
You build: your first project, running on your own machine.
This is the session where people gasp a little. You'll build an actual arcade game — your art, your story, your rules — and wire in real APIs that generate images and video while you watch. It's also where "API" stops being a scary word.
You build: a playable game with AI-generated art and a video ending.
Claude Cowork, skills, plugins, agents, and connectors. We take real work — messy spreadsheets, an unmanageable inbox — and build automations that handle it. You bring your own annoying task. We fix it live.
You build: a working automation for something you actually do every week.
The tools that separate "I made a thing" from "I ship things." MCPs, working inside a real code editor, and a critic agent that reviews your work before you do. Then you put your app on the internet with a link you can text your mother.
You build: your own app, live on the internet, at a real URL.
You take the knowledge test — a real one, 90% to pass, retake it as many times as you need — and submit a capstone you built yourself. Pass both and your certificate is issued with your name on it. Then we spend the last hour on what you build next.
You leave with: the certificate, the portfolio, and a plan.
I started Build Beautifully in May 2026 with one room, a projector, and a suspicion that the reason more women weren't building software had nothing to do with aptitude and everything to do with the fact that every tutorial on earth starts at step four.
Since then, more than 200 women have come through the series in San Francisco — operators, founders, marketers, HR leads, career switchers, people who'd never opened a terminal in their lives. I teach slowly. I stop when someone's screen doesn't match mine. I have never once said "it's easy, just—".
The thing I care about most: you don't leave dependent on me. You leave with the files, the prompts, the habits, and the specific confidence that comes from having done it with your own hands.
All five sessions. One payment. That's $30 a Sunday.
Starts Sunday, November 1 · 1–4pm PT
Seats are capped so I can help everyone. No refunds — please read the FAQ before you buy.
One consulting hour costs more than this. So does a nice dinner in the city, and the dinner does not deploy.
“Build Beautifully has been an amazing experience and is such a gift to the community. It helped me better understand what is possible with AI and gave me confidence to try new things. I appreciate how welcoming and warm the environment is, so showing up and learning is always fun.”
— Jessica, Founding Cohort Member
I'd rather you skip it than sit through five Sundays annoyed.
Good. That's who this was built for. Session one assumes you don't know what a terminal is, what a folder path means, or why anyone would name a file README. Two hundred women have started exactly where you are.
No. You'll be describing what you want in plain English and learning how to direct an AI that writes the code. By session four you'll read code well enough to know when something's wrong — which is a different and more useful skill than writing it from scratch.
A laptop (Mac or Windows), internet, and a Claude Pro subscription — that's $20/month, paid to Anthropic, not to me. That's the only other cost. I'll send a short setup email the week before with exactly what to install, step by step.
Come to the next one anyway. I teach slowly on purpose, and you'll have the materials from every session — including the ones you missed — so you can catch up on your own time and walk back in without feeling lost. Life happens on Sundays. You'll be fine.
You could. And if you were going to, you already would have. What you can't get from YouTube: someone watching your screen at the exact moment it breaks, and four other women in the same call figuring it out with you.
Often, yes. It's professional development with a certificate at the end. Email me and I'll send you an invoice and a one-paragraph summary you can forward to your manager.
There isn't one. I cap the cohort so everyone gets real attention, and a seat you don't use is a seat someone else wanted. Please read this page twice and be sure before you buy.
Or it'll be December and you'll be exactly where you are, which is fine, but you already know how that feels.
Save my seat — $150Starts Sunday, November 1 · 1–4pm PT · Five weeks