April 30, 2026
is turning 34

looks like him.
This is a website about you, my brother.
34 years of you. Which is a frankly absurd run, when you think about it.
You built a race car at university. You found Alex. You learned to cook the kind of food I used to think only restaurants made. You keep ending up on top of mountains, on lakes, in slot canyons.
(One time, in a coffin. We don't have to talk about it.)
I made you a website. It's the least I could do.
an incomplete and biased list

Before you were anything else, you were this. Still are.

NASA hoodie by candlelight. Leather jacket on the beach. Bomber jacket at a café.
taken by me, obviously.

Paper Rings. At my wedding. Guitar in hand, mic on, everyone watching.
And it was beautiful.

And he found you. And honestly, I don't think either of you has stopped smiling since.
family forever now.

That one time you posed in a coffin.
Yes, a coffin. We're not unpacking that here.


You got a NASA hoodie (that Alex also likes), a NASA cap.
You posed in photos (which you somehow got time for in between business calls).
You've been to both Houston and Kennedy space centers (with me).

White Sands. Zion at sunrise. Slot canyons that look like Mars. The Grand Canyon.
A giant ceremonial pistachio in the desert.
With your desire to do things, and Alex always researching things, we end up in cool places.
P.S. also thank you for helping drive my car from SF to Atlanta for the move.
(you don't read books. ever. how do you DO this?)


With your hands. With a team. At Karlstad. You stood on a stage in front of it and gave a speech.
In my mind, you are a Formula Student legend. I'm sure they still tell tales about you at KAU.
I was insufferably proud. I still am.
stolt alumn!
the photographic evidence
look at him. taken by me, obviously.
the dream team
things they cooked while I made limited contributions
(specifically: I do not like eating outside in the cold.)

Some men own boats. Some men captain them.
You captain them. The orange Archimedes 40 idling in the reeds. A smile and a high-vis life jacket. If it floats and has a steering wheel, you are at the helm of it.

And if it's cold, you light a fire on it.
Green ski jacket. Bliz goggles. Fire pits in the snow. You genuinely like being cold.
I do not.
I especially do not like eating outside in the cold. I have done it. Many times. I have eaten sausages at temperatures no sausage should be eaten at.
I did it because you asked. I'd do it again.

exhibit B: the fire pit.

he loves this. I do not.
Anyone who's ever crossed Swedish water with you has been mildly endangered and mildly delighted, in roughly equal measure. This is the package.

grand canyon.

he's the main character.

long flight, good company.

golden hour.

the escape room squad.
I introduce myself at his events. People nod politely.
He is, always, the more interesting sibling. The one people want to talk to. The one who walks into a room and the room reorganizes around him.
I wouldn't have it any other way.
my wedding, his moment

Paper Rings. I am crying. Everyone is crying.
I asked him to be my toastmaster. He said yes before I finished the sentence.
He sang Paper Rings at my ceremony. Guitar, mic, and me standing there in a wedding dress trying not to ugly-cry in front of everyone.
He gave the speech of the evening. Funny, then devastating, then funny again. The kind of speech where you forget to eat your food because you're too busy listening.
Truly proving what an amazing brother he is.



Some brothers show up. Mine showed up with a guitar, a speech, and a plan to make everyone in the room fall in love with him.
It worked.

Thank you for making my life amazing for 34 years.
You're the person who shows up before I have to ask.
Every photo of you with someone is also a photo of you paying attention to that person.
That's the rarest thing I know.
your present
That's yours now. Happy birthday, Martin. ❤️
Build a portfolio. Build a recipe blog with Alex. Build a single page that just says "I am Karl Martin Sundberg and my beard is excellent."
I genuinely don't care.
It's yours. I just wanted you to have something with your name on it that I made.