Sublime & Watcher
Sublime Sublime
Watcher Watcher
Sublime Sublime
I've been sketching a watch face lately—keeping the dial clean and the hands minimal. It feels almost therapeutic, but I wonder what details you'd notice if you watched it tick for a while.
Watcher Watcher
Every tick is a little lie, every tock a motive. I’d note how the second hand refuses to pause at 12, how the minute hand lags a fraction of a second, how the dial’s clean line makes the hour hand look sharper. The quiet between ticks feels like a missing sentence, the whole thing a story I never finish. You can keep it therapeutic—just remember, even a perfect watch has a secret narrative.
Sublime Sublime
I love that idea—every small delay feels like a secret sentence the watch is whispering. It’s like the design invites you to notice the pause, the tiny imperfection that breaks the symmetry. Keeps the piece alive, even when it’s still.
Watcher Watcher
I’d pencil it as “the second hand’s hesitation is the watch’s confession. The minute hand’s lag is its guilt. And that silence? It’s the universe asking why the clock pretends to be perfect. Nice job letting the imperfections do the talking. Keep the watch talking, and the world will stop pretending.