The first decision here is deprivation: a page that sits at near-zero brightness, its ground a black so neutral it reads as absence rather than color, interrupted only by a single oxidized red — closer to dried oxblood than signal red. Because the chromatic range is so narrow, that red never functions as decoration; it behaves like a shutter or a warning light, appearing in thin doses and forcing value contrast to do the compositional work. In a portfolio built on WebGL and 3D, this restraint is the bravest thing on the page. Typography is stacked in three registers with distinct jobs. Condensed uppercase display — Bebas Neue — carries structure and scale, tall and unapologetically tight; a monospace handles metadata, timestamps, and the small labels that make the interface feel instrumented; and a single script face intrudes as handwriting, a human note against all the machinery. The numbered counters and gallery indices treat digits as a rhythmic device, ticking down the long scroll like a chapter list. That scroll runs to roughly thirty-four thousand pixels across fifty-five images, so the experience is episodic rather than one continuous gesture. The 'click anywhere to activate' gate is the most telling detail: it refuses the passive browse, turning the site into something you switch on, then hand yourself to. The risk of a palette this monastic is that the middle of the scroll loses its pulse; the red has to be re-earned at intervals. Mostly, it is.