Warm Static
A note on texture — tape hiss, hand-set type, unswept floors, and the case for keeping the imperfections in.
Every medium leaves a residue. Tape leaves hiss. Ink leaves misregistration. Rooms leave reverb. For decades the ambition was to erase all of it, and now that we can, most of us are quietly putting it back.
It isn't nostalgia, or not only. The residue carries information: that a person made this, in a place, with tools that pushed back. Frictionless work tells you nothing about where it came from.
We build these pages the same way — a little grain, a little wobble, edges that don't quite line up. Not as decoration, but as a signature that something here was handled.
