the forgetting is architecture, not policy
People dance, lift and rehearse in front of this thing in their living rooms — the least-guarded footage imaginable. The design answer is a mirror with amnesia: frames enter a rolling buffer in tab memory, live for at most seventeen seconds, and are destroyed by the arrival of newer ones. There is no record button to press accidentally, no clip format to leak, and switching apps wipes the buffer entirely rather than letting stale seconds linger.
Where footage cannot go: the site is flat files on a CDN with no server application, so an upload destination simply doesn't exist. Load the page, flip on airplane mode, and rehearse for an hour — everything works, which is the ten-second audit that outranks any promise written here.
The one thing that persists: a frame you deliberately save with the save-frame button, which goes to your own downloads folder and nowhere else. Nothing else survives the tab closing.
Bookkeeping: this page runs no analytics or ad scripts and sets no cookies. One display typeface arrives from Google Fonts and caches. The host counts visits as bare numbers. Who practised what in front of the mirror is knowledge that dies with the buffer.
questions → stage door · reviewed 12 jul 2026