the series' first input that isn't a pointer
what it takes to make a page feel breathed on
Breath is just loudness
The whole input is the microphone's RMS level, smoothed. Blowing across a mic is broadband noise — loud, sustained, unmistakable. No speech, no pitch, no cleverness needed.
Heat in, cooling out
Every coal runs the same equation: breath raises heat, time lowers it. The fire is a leaky bucket.
Colour is temperature
Coal-brown to orange to white-gold, one lerp. Your eye already knows this scale from every fireplace it's ever seen — the physics is borrowed perception.
The mic is a gift
Nothing activates until you press the button, the meter shows exactly what's heard, and the fine print says what happens to it: one number, this tab, gone every frame.
Char and fire
Soot ground, three heats.
Why breath beats a button
A click is a decision; a breath is a gesture your body already knows. Leaning into a screen to blow on coals — and watching them answer — collapses the distance between you and the page more than any hover effect ever has.
drag the slider · a standing airflow through the room, under your breath · feeds the hero hearth too · this bed accepts breath and bellows as well