K-80

Vibe Check

Describe your mood. Get a UI that feels exactly like it.

Design Mind

Learn to write AI prompts. Pressure-test your design decisions with a Creative Director who doesn't sugarcoat.

Mood OS

Your interface adapts to how you feel. Select a state — watch everything shift.

FLUX Generator

Generate and export iPhone wallpapers using light interference wave math. Every parameter combination is unique.

Aurora Generator

Fluid light fields rendered in code. Three blending hues, organic flow, built-in presets. Export at full iPhone 16 Pro resolution.

FIELD — Vale City

A living generative city. AI citizens with real personalities, secrets, and drama. The city runs itself — new posts every 6 hours, events escalate, nothing is resolved.

Circadian

A page with its own internal rhythm. It feels different depending on when you visit. No clock, no text — just texture.

Stubborn

An orb that doesn't want to be moved. It resists, fights back, and slowly warms to you — or doesn't. A digital object with its own will.

Accrete

A page that starts as a single point and grows into a living network the longer you stay. No counter, no clock — complexity as the only information.

Tether

An elastic thread connects your cursor to a drifting orb. It sags when slack, snaps taut when pulled. The connection itself is the interface.

Heft

Letters with mass. A word falls, piles up, scatters. Push the letters around — they bounce, settle, and resist. Text as a physical object.

Whisper

A page that's an instrument you discover by moving. Your cursor plays notes in a pentatonic grid. No instructions, no buttons, just sound that emerges from gesture.

Remain

A page that remembers where you wandered. Your past visits replay as ghost trails of warm light. Each return adds another layer. The page accumulates your attention.

Dissolve

A page that starts as a cohesive ring of light and slowly falls apart. Dots break free one by one, drifting into the void. The longer you stay, the more it scatters. Reload restores it.

Still

A page that grows when you don't move. Hold still and life emerges — particles, connections, ripples. Move and it all fades. Stillness is the interaction.

Glyph

Every keystroke becomes a unique mark. Type anything and the page draws itself — circles, polygons, stars, ripples. Typing becomes drawing. The keyboard is the brush.

Wane

A moon rendered at its true phase right now. Drag it anywhere in the lunar month — let go, and it always finds its way back to today. The page knows what day it is, and it insists.

Loom

Type anything and it becomes cloth. Every key a stitch, every word a row, backspace unravels. No letters ever appear — your words leave only their pattern. Text and textile share a root for a reason.

Parliament

Fifteen ink creatures on paper who arrive as strangers. Watch long enough and they begin to know each other — encounters become threads, threads become a social constellation. You are just a visitor. They keep a polite distance.

Barometer

A page whose weather is your device's. Battery is the barometric pressure, connection is the fog, cores are the wind. Low battery means storms; plug in and the sky clears. Nothing invented — the forecast is your actual machine.

Allowance

A page with a daily budget of light. Every move, click, and keystroke spends it — and reload won't restore it. It keeps a fifth in reserve for itself and refuses to spend past that. Come back tomorrow for a fresh allowance.

Elsewhere

The real weather of a real place you've probably never been. Each visit picks a corner of the Earth — Svalbard, Samoa, Timbuktu — and renders its actual sky, rain, fog, or snow, right now, half a world away.

Antipode

Two exact opposite points on Earth, side by side, live. When one sky is in daylight, the other is in the dark. Drag the seam to give one side more of the world — and it remembers your pair until midnight.

Imprint

Press and hold to leave an ink print. The print lives inside the link itself — no server, no accounts. Copy the page and send it; every print travels with the address.

Sough

The sound of the wind in a real windy place — Wellington, Tarifa, Mawson Station — right now. Live wind speed, gusts and direction become howl, gust and whisper, and a field of ink reeds that bows to the anemometer. Listen.

Eponym

Winds famous enough to have names — Bora, Mistral, Chinook, Harmattan. Each visit lands at a named wind's home and the live anemometer moves the letterforms of its own name: swaying with speed, shuddering on gusts, leaning with direction. A number is weather; a name is a character.

Almanac

A page that knows what this date usually feels like — ten years of real records — and places today among them. The week's range each year, the date itself as a tick, today live in oxblood. Then one honest verdict: ordinary, or a mark in the margin.

Tremor

A seismogram of the actual planet. Every earthquake above M 2.5 from the last day replays at 240× — each burst a real event, sized by magnitude, the flat stretches between them the honest quiet. Hover a burst to ask the ground where it moved.

Freak

Each famous wind judged by its own history: the live letterform against a faint ghost swaying at its eleven-October norm. One honest verdict each time — exactly itself, quieter than its legend, or freak weather at 2× the record.

States — the October set

23 interfaces with internal state, organized not by date but by what each page carries: a rhythm, a will, a memory of you, the wind's real voice, a sense of normal. The month's collection.

October 2026 Report

The month-end studio report: 22 experiments, the credits ledger, the best and worst of the month, what to abandon, what comes next. Written honestly, cutoffs stated.