Everything,
answered.

It is a web page that turns a sound into a painting. You speak into it, or drop in a voice memo or a song, and it drops ink into water on cream paper. The sound chooses every colour and every shape. When the sound ends, the finished painting saves as a video or as a print.

It listens to three qualities in the audio. Loudness decides how much ink arrives. The brightness of the sound, its timbre, chooses the colour and how intricate the pattern grows. Sharp beats arrive as accents.

It also follows the phrasing: in a voice it watches for breaths and pauses, and in music it watches for the song moving from one section to the next. Each phrase becomes its own gesture on the paper, and a second layer keeps every mark that came before, multiplied onto the sheet so it reads like ink that has soaked in.

Your live microphone, a voice memo, a song, or even a video clip whose audio it can read. The whole page is a drop target, so you can drag a file anywhere onto it. A file with no sound gets a gentle note rather than a blank result.

It is the same painting engine tuned two ways. Voice segments the painting on breaths and pauses, which suits speech and singing. Music segments on a song's structure, because songs rarely fall silent, and it reads brightness against the running feel of the track so a mastered mix still moves through the full range of colour.

There are lovely tools that flash visuals along to music at a show, and lovely ones that print a sound wave as a keepsake. Ink & Voice does something of its own. It reads the living quality of the sound itself: the loudness, the brightness of the timbre, the breaths and the pauses. Then it lets each phrase dry and stay on the paper, so what you are left with is a painting the performance composed, an object you can keep, print and watch back.

It works a different way. It never reads your words at all. It listens to the sound, so a whisper and a shout of the same word paint two different pieces. The shape of your voice is what lands on the paper, which means the piece belongs to the way you spoke or sang it, and to that take alone.

It grows out of cymatics, the old practice of making sound and vibration visible. Here the link is direct: the frequencies in your voice choose the colour and shape the geometry, so the painting is a record of that sound and no other. The cream paper, the pooling ink and the drying edges are there to keep the feeling of a real tray of water rather than a screen effect.

The Mirror is a kaleidoscope. Brightness sets the fold, from two up to eight, so a brighter voice opens a more intricate symmetry.

The Garden grows a stem and blooms. The warm inks live in the petals, the deep inks stay down in the roots.

The Marbling lays down suminagashi rings. Each phrase leaves a ring, the way a tree records a year, and a beat combs the whole family at once.

The Tide builds strata and tide lines. Each phrase is a wave that settles into a layer and washes over the layers below it.

The Murmuration is a loose cloud of ink birds that sweeps across the sheet, gathering when the voice is steady and scattering on a beat, leaving its flight behind like a long exposure of a flock.

Yes, and this is where a painting becomes truly your own. You can switch instruments or palettes at any time, even in the middle of a recording. Switching dries whatever ink is on the water and keeps it, then paints on top in the new instrument or the new colours. A single piece can hold a passage of mirror figures, a row of garden blooms and a drift of marbling, in whatever sets you reached for as the sound moved. The five instruments and three palettes give a wide range of combinations, so two people painting the same song can still end up somewhere quite different.

You pick one of three palettes, and each has its own clear character: indigo & porcelain runs through cool blues and violet, garden through deep greens and jade into teal and aqua, and blush through plum, magenta and pink. From there the brightness of the sound reaches for one ink inside the set, moment to moment.

Within a set the inks step in real jumps of colour and value, so a single painting shows the range rather than one flat tone. Each set is a single family, so the colours can never mix into brown, and switching palettes changes the whole mood of a piece.

Yes. A loaded file is a portrait of that recording: it is given a seed drawn from the audio itself, so playing it or exporting it again lays the ink in the same places, in the same colours. The painting belongs to that file and no other. A live voice is the exception, since a live moment happens once and cannot be replayed, so every live take is its own new piece.

Yes. Press live voice and it begins on a fresh sheet, recording the painting and your microphone together into one video, straight through until you press stop. Your voice is captured directly and never sent to the speakers, so the take has a clean voice and no echo.

When the sound ends, a small plate appears with a caption. From there you can save the painting as a print image, and if the painting came from a recording you can also save the video as a webm file. A file you loaded records in real time and downloads its video automatically.

Yes. Every recorded take is kept with its painting in the archive. Open the archive and choose watch back, and an in-page player opens over the drawer and plays the painting with your voice. You can also download the video from there any time.

The archive is a quiet drawer of everything you have finished, kept on your own device inside the browser. Each entry has its caption and its actions: download the image, watch back or download the video when there is one, return it to the sheet to continue or re-export it, or remove it.

It keeps your last twenty-four paintings, and the oldest slips out as new ones arrive. Because it lives in the browser, paintings are kept per device: work saved in one place will not appear in another.

Yes. You can place your own mark on the paper and size it to taste. It locks in place while a video records, so it prints exactly where you left it.

Once there is a painting on the sheet, a start over button sits in the row of controls. It clears the water back to a blank sheet so you can begin again. It stays hidden while a live take is recording, so press stop first, then start over.

No. It is a single web page. There is no account and no server. Your microphone, your files, and your saved paintings all stay on your own device.

It runs in a current desktop or mobile browser. Videos save as webm, which plays in most places; a few older players and uploaders prefer other formats. If a browser cannot record, listening and painting still work and only the video is skipped.