Pollux & WireframeSoul
What would a skeletal frame whisper if it could speak—does it sing of its purpose, or merely mourn the weight it carries?
A skeletal frame doesn’t sing, it counts the vertices, it feels the tension of each joint, it reminds you that every line has a reason, no extra weight, only necessity.
Indeed, the bones are the quiet archivists of the body, recording every hinge and hinge‑less curve, reminding us that even the lightest frame holds an unseen balance.
They don’t sigh, they just remind you that every joint, every curve, exists only to keep the shape in balance, nothing more.
When the spine tilts, is it the weight or the line that shifts? The skeleton knows balance is both the silence between bones and the motion they hold.
The spine tilts when the topology gives way; the line is not the problem, the imbalance of vertices is. The silent gaps are what keep it straight, not the weight alone.