One piece at a time

Words sit blurred until a camera-style focus frame travels to them and brings them sharp, stretching into each word's box on the way rather than snapping to it. Every box is measured, so it takes any font at any size.

A dot grid that sits almost invisible until the pointer draws it into a singularity, the lines bending like a rubber sheet under a weight. Canvas 2D, one Gaussian, no shader.

Cards seated around a true 3D ring you spin with a drag. The far side stays visible through the gaps, mirrored text and all, which is what makes it read as a cylinder instead of a shallow fan.

Portrait media standing on a ring that curls around the viewer, smallest in the middle and leaning in at both edges. The gaps are solved in projected space, so they stay even where every other 3D carousel bunches up.

Fifty-two pages seated edge-out around a tipped wheel like cards in a rolodex, spinning slowly and throwing with momentum. The depth is sorted here per frame rather than handed to the browser, which cannot resolve cards this overlapped.

Cards riding a very large circle with the focused one upright at its apex, each tilted tangent to the curve. Position and tilt fall out of a single rotation, so there is no per-card trigonometry anywhere in it.

A bookmark-tab card with a bite taken out of its lower edge, whose artwork blooms into saturated colour on hover — the image dissolves into the glow rather than being painted over by it.

A manila-folder card whose tab slides down on hover to reveal an iridescent gradient beneath, with a cut-out object rising into view from behind it. The notch is an SVG mask, so the folder face can be any gradient.

A hand of cards dealt across the frame with the focused one picked up out of the spread — it jumps clear of the scale its neighbours sit on, which is what makes it read as lifted rather than merely nearest.

A rail of tall slivers where hovering one widens it into a full card and slides its neighbours aside. The caption is laid out once at the open width, so the text never rewraps halfway through the reveal.

Framed photographs shingled into a rail with the middle one opened out to carry its caption. It does not simply scale up — it re-crops, so the picture widens into the frame rather than stretching.

A hand of campaign cards splayed open from a hinge below the deck, the middle one standing upright behind an acid-yellow plate. The spread is one rotation about a pivot off the bottom edge, so the gathered bottoms and swung tops come for free.

The send button from an AI composer bar: a circular arrow inside a halo that brightens as the field fills, so the control tells you it is ready before you reach it.

A pill nav button whose icon disc wears an iridescent ring that travels around it — the colour shifts through the spectrum as it orbits, and settles on hover.

Continents drawn as thousands of individual points on a slowly rotating sphere, drifting as it turns. Drag to spin it, let go and it keeps its momentum.

A glass keycap that turns under the cursor and presses when you click — bevelled edges catching a violet rim light, the label sunk into the surface rather than printed on it.