this one came together during three sleepless nights of staring at old CRT monitors
an experiment in making buttons feel like they're made of marshmallow
a zine about shopping mall architecture that nobody asked for but everyone needed
started as a napkin sketch during a long train ride through the countryside
what happens when you let a neural network design a perfume bottle
an attempt to visualize what it feels like when the work is going well
photographed every closing-time moment in Shibuya for two months straight
exploring the space between digital noise and analog warmth
wayfinding diagrams for buildings that only exist in my imagination
the beauty in things that are slowly being forgotten
recreating the acoustic feeling of an empty atrium using only CSS
what if every interaction felt like a saxophone solo at 2am
the specific pink glow of a tube light reflected on a polished floor
a lovingly curated collection of every fake roman column I've ever encountered
nostalgia for loading screens I barely remember from childhood
Welcome to the studio. You've wandered in after hours, and that's perfectly fine — the lights are still on, the coffee's still warm, and there's always something half-finished on the desk worth talking about.
This is a space for work that lives somewhere between the melancholy of abandoned commercial architecture and the quiet satisfaction of a well-organized workspace. Every project here started as a feeling before it became a file, and I like to think that feeling survives the translation.
The portfolio case is always open. If something here resonates, or if you just want to talk about the particular sadness of department stores at closing time, you know where to find me.