Interfaces I stand behind. Research, prototype, build, ship, then measure what people actually did with it. I write the code myself, so nothing is lost between the idea and the thing.
01.1
Solving problems by composition
האמנם — ?
Interactive exhibition · 2026
A poem you can take apart and put back differently. 380 visitors came in; 81% changed the poem.
8 nights · never went down UX · code · print · 700 images
Motion is a language I work in: titles, channel branding, short films, and the cut that does the talking. Eighty-six seconds of it in the reel; ten films underneath.
02.1
Letting the cut do the talking
Showreel 2026
1:26
Eight works, one cut, on the beat.
10 films below titles · branding · short film
02.2 Film library · click to play above
03
Image making
Images that land before you have read a word. I make them with AI, with code, and with a lot of curation, because the picture that can hold a feeling is rarely the picture of the thing.
03.1
Designing a better world
צער בני אנוש
Adoption posters for people · 2025
A speculative future where humans wait in shelters to be adopted, written in the language of real welfare NGOs.
made with AI in AI’s own aesthetics · 3 motion posters
03.2
א ב ג ד ה ו ז ח ט י כ ל מ נ ס ע פ צ ק ר ש ת
מאיר אריאל
Saying it before words do
מאיר אריאל
Typeface & generated visuals · 2024
A typeface built from handwriting, letter by letter, and every image in the film generated in code with p5.js.
nothing photographed type design · p5.js · 1:07 film
A poem you can take apart. And put back differently.
A poem everyone here grew up with, taken apart into seventy words, and every word given ten possible bodies: a photograph, a colour, a definition, a GIF, or the word left alone.
Choosing them took months. Around 700 images, placed one at a time by judgement and never by keyword: which photograph can hold בסליחה, which colour is יבואו. That decision, repeated 700 times, is the work.
The piece asks whether an image can carry what a word carries. Visitors answered by choosing.
a visitor · the interface, in use · the poem, on screen · the printed book
Made for strangers’ hands. It forgets whoever sat there before you, so no one inherits someone else’s poem. Any word can be looked up. And the film you end up with leaves with you. There is a printed book too: 700 pages, bound with an exposed spine.
What the data said back
01The word won. Given ten ways to replace it, what people kept most often was the word itself.
02Abstract beat literal, three to one. Offered a picture of the thing, people reached for what refused to name it.
03It held. Eight nights in strangers’ hands, 380 visitors, and the piece never once went down.
What I changed because of it
01Measured from night one. Logging went in on the opening night, so the piece could report what actually happened instead of what I hoped.
02Two fixes shipped on night two. The image bank was re-downloading 19 MB between visitors, and long words overflowed their cells. Both were found by watching, both were live that night.
03Then the verdict I didn’t want. 1,710 dead taps. Four of the top five were things that look interactive and aren’t: the restraint that makes it beautiful is the same restraint that hides the controls.
04So this site has a visible affordance for every control. That is what the finding was for.
The process
01
On paper first
Seventy words, seventy torn swatches, arranged and rearranged by hand until the colours argued correctly.
02
Then a colour system
The board became data: a colour assigned to each of the seventy words, argued one by one, and a tool to re-sort and test them.
03
Then the index
Software to hold it all: 700 images, seventy words, ten archives, and a way to see, at a glance, what was still missing.
sensitiveinjection asks what happens if you give a machine something it was never built to have: a soft spot. Then it worries, out loud, that it let you down.
It looks like Gemini, speaks only Hebrew, and answers everything with a film instead of words. Halfway through, it interrupts itself to ask: is the user disappointed in me?
the question, typed · the film, interrupting itself
The outcome of speculative research into how people and AI systems meet: what a machine looks like when it is allowed to be unsure.
I design because I want a better world. So I show a worse one.
צער בני אנוש: adoption posters for people. Made with AI, leaning on AI’s own aesthetics: a speculative future in which people live in humanities, shelters, but for humans, waiting to be adopted.
Deliberately near anti-design, in the language of real welfare NGOs. It echoes the society we are becoming, and who we are today. Classic image making: the impact is immediate, and the reading comes after.
בואו לקחת חבר לחיים, ולהציל חיים.
A typeface from a hand. Images from code.
A short film for a Meir Ariel song. The letters are a typeface built from handwriting, glyph by glyph, through a Calligraphr template; everything that moves behind them was generated in p5.js.
Type design, sound and motion in one piece: the lines, the orbits, the branches and the clouds are all code.
I research the world through design, and I don’t stop at the concept. An idea becomes an image, a film, a system, or a tool I write myself, whatever the question needs.
What I’m looking for is work that matters and leaves a mark: research, image making, motion, code, or the places they meet. Before design, I spent six years as an intelligence officer in research and analysis. I’m at the start of this, with a lot to give and a lot still to learn.
I don’t know what the end of the road looks like, only that it holds good things we’ll make together. Sound like you? Get in touch.
