Notes from building FleaWinder Living Circus: a tiny world of performers, places, and the odd things they remember.
The Circus Found Its Poster
For a while, the website was still presenting FleaWinder like the old desktop strip: a row of acts above a taskbar, powered by everyday input. That is true history, and I am fond of it. But it is no longer the clearest picture of what the project is becoming.
The current build begins with a small illustrated place: a ring, workshops, paths, quiet corners, and room for another flea. That shift sounds cosmetic, but it changes the promise. The founding eight are not a fixed product catalogue. They are the people who welcome you into a world that can make room for someone new.
I brought the actual iPhone and Apple TV art onto the site rather than inventing a separate marketing look. The living grounds map and the habitats are game art. They show the version of FleaWinder I want to keep building: tactile, a little secret, warm at the edges, and large enough for a small history without pretending to be an empire.
This also clarified the release story. The next public chapter is the Apple circus on iPhone, iPad, and Apple TV. Windows Classic and macOS remain free little archives of where the show started while the next desktop edition takes its time. The website should make that future visible at a glance.
A Flea Needs a Room
Creating a flea was never meant to stop at choosing an act, a color, and a hat. A character becomes easier to care about when they have somewhere to go after the applause. That is why the habitat work became a real system instead of a single decorative screen.
Habitats now keep their own state and daily rhythm. A flea can settle into a corner, collect the small objects that make it feel used, and carry that sense of place back into the larger circus. The important design question was not which furniture could be unlocked. It was what makes a place feel like it belongs to someone.
The next step connected those rooms to the world itself. A habitat is not a menu tab in costume: it can point outward to a destination, a route, a visitor, or a reason to return. That gives a created flea a life adjacent to the stage rather than treating it as a replacement skin for one of the founders.
The art helped set the tone. Blanket forts, mossy folds, paper ledges, lamps, thread, cups of tea: each is deliberately flea-sized. The circus should feel like a place you lean toward, not a dashboard you manage.
A Map Is Not a Menu
The Living Route began with a refusal: I did not want to add a World tab that was only another list of systems. If the circus was going to have places, those places needed to suggest distance, weather, routine, and the possibility that something had happened there before you opened the screen.
So the world became a route. The ring, workshop, archive, commons, and quiet corners sit in relation to one another. A player can follow an open question, visit a familiar place, or discover that a route has become meaningful because the same people keep passing through it.
That relationship is why the map matters more than a set of destination buttons. A path can acquire a story. A place can become known for a particular rehearsal, a borrowed prop, a late-night conversation, or a recurring bit of weather. The world starts to feel particular without demanding a quest log.
It is also a useful boundary for the whole project. FleaWinder should offer threads, not chores. A route is an invitation to notice what changed, not an obligation to clear every marker before bedtime.
What the Daily Flea Is For
A living circus needs a way to remember public life without turning every private moment into content. That was the reason for the Daily Flea: not a feed, not a notification machine, but a tiny newsroom with reporters, sources, corrections, letters, archives, and enough editorial judgment to leave some things alone.
The newsroom work gave the paper a rhythm. A public consequence can earn a follow-up. A reporter can have a beat and a method. A correction can matter. Repeated events can become the sort of local story that gets retold differently by different people. Those details are small, but they let the circus develop a public memory instead of a pile of disconnected headlines.
At the same time, the performers gained a different kind of history: legacy. A flea can teach, retire, leave behind a technique, or remain important after it no longer holds the center of the ring. That is the opposite of collection-game logic. The point is not to maximize a roster; it is to make influence visible after a moment has passed.
The rule I keep returning to is simple: private scenes stay private unless someone inside the world makes them public. The paper is there to witness the circus, not to expose it.
Keeping a Spatial Circus Small
Putting a circus in a room creates an obvious temptation: make it huge. The better answer for FleaWinder was the opposite. The spatial stage works when it feels like a tiny performance has quietly arrived on a table, a shelf, or a clear patch of floor - something you approach rather than something that takes over the room.
The practical work was all about making that feeling dependable. The stage has to find surfaces, place the acts with enough room to read, respect the difference between devices, and fall back gracefully when a room cannot offer every kind of depth information. The technology is only useful if the performer still feels like the same performer.
That became the visual test: Nova should still read as Nova on a small wire, and Bugg should still be Bugg when the ramp is a few inches long. The goal is continuity of character and gesture, not a technical demo with circus wallpaper.
Spatial play is one more way to be near the troupe. It is not a separate game, a new economy, or a reason to make the player perform for the app. The circus stays flea-sized on purpose.
How the fleas learned to sound more like themselves
This month I spent time on a quieter kind of magic: helping each flea feel more like a tiny performer with a point of view. The goal was not to make the circus louder or more complicated. It was to make the moments between tricks feel warmer, more specific, and less repetitive.
The new voice work gives each flea a clearer rhythm. Pip can be proud without becoming stiff, Nova can notice details without turning into a lecture, and Bugg can keep that bright daredevil spark even when the app is simply idling on a desk.
I also tightened the way seasonal flavor shows up. A spring session should not feel exactly like an autumn one, and a late-night wind should have a slightly different mood than a midday check-in. Those shifts are small on purpose. FleaWinder works best when it feels alive without demanding attention.
The important part is consistency. The same troupe should feel familiar on iPhone, Apple TV, Mac, watch, widgets, and the spatial circus. When a flea becomes more expressive in one place, the rest of the surfaces need to catch up so the project still feels like one world.
That is the thread I keep coming back to: tiny, readable, characterful moments that travel everywhere. The fleas are still small. The circus is still gentle. But they have a little more presence now, and that makes the whole thing feel more cared for.
Optræk lopperne fra hvor som helst på iOS
FleaWinder har nu et brugerdefineret iOS-tastatur. Installér det én gang, og enhver app du skriver i — Beskeder, Noter, Safari, hvor som helst — trækker stille cirkus op i baggrunden. Hvert tiende tastetryk sender et energistød tilbage til hovedappen. Lopperne er ligeglade med, hvor input kommer fra; de vil bare trækkes op.
Tastaturet selv har cirkustema: mørke varme brune taster, gyldne accenter på specialtasterne og en lille energibjælke øverst, der fyldes op, mens du skriver. Den skifter fra rød til guld til grøn, efterhånden som dit antal tastetryk stiger. Der er en lille loppe-emoji ved siden af og en live-tæller, så du kan se præcis, hvor meget optrækning du har lavet i denne session.
Den sværeste del var datadeling. iOS-tastaturudvidelser kører i deres egen sandkasseproces — de kan ikke tale direkte med hovedappen. Løsningen er App Groups: en delt UserDefaults-container, som både tastaturet og appen kan læse og skrive til. Tastaturet akkumulerer vindpunkter og lægger dem i den delte container; appen henter dem ved genoptagelse. Vi migrerede de eksisterende Siri Shortcuts og widget-intents til den samme delte container undervejs, så alt nu flyder gennem ét rør.
For at aktivere det: Indstillinger, Generelt, Tastatur, Tastaturer, Tilføj nyt tastatur, FleaWinder Circus. Det anmoder ikke om fuld adgang — intet netværk, ingen data forlader din enhed. Bare tastetryk der driver lopper.
Cirkus på små skærme
FleaWinder er designet til en bred, tynd stribe over proceslinjen — behageligt landskabsformat. Telefoner er portræt. At få cirkusset til at fungere på små skærme betød, at layoutet måtte gentænkes uden at miste det, der giver det liv.
The embeddable widget flips to a tall canvas on mobile, stacking the acts vertically instead of spreading them across a ribbon. Anyone dropping FleaWinder into their own site gets a layout that adapts automatically. Four theme presets (dark, light, warm, cool) and a scale parameter let it blend with whatever surrounds it.
Den større udfordring var læsbarhed. På en telefonskærm er lopper tegnet i skrivebordsstørrelse bare prikker. Vi tilføjede et zoom-trin der skalerer loppekroppene op, så deres kostumer, udtryk og tilbehør faktisk er synlige — Pips pandebånd, Rex' hjelm, Blazes lille krone. Personlighedsdetaljerne der altid var der, kan pludselig aflæses på en arms længde.
Resten af mobilombygningen var mindre glamourøs men lige så vigtig: berøringsvenlige trykområder, bedre skriftstørrelsesskalering, responsiv afstand overalt på marketingsiden. Intet revolutionerende — bare sikre at cirkusset ser rigtigt ud, uanset hvor man finder det.
Kostumer, årstider og en cirkusdirektør
Denne uge handlede om visuel dybde. Hver loppe i kolonien bærer nu et unikt kostume — Nova har en parasol på line, Rex bærer hjelm i kanonen, Blaze får en krone til ildsluger-nummeret. Små detaljer, men de giver hver artist en identitet man kan se med det samme.
Selve scenen ændrer sig med kalenderen. Et sæsonbestemt partikelsystem drypper sne om vinteren, kirsebærblomster om foråret, ildfluer om sommeren og flagrende blade om efteråret. Der er også en diskret dag/nat-farvetone bundet til dit virkelige ur — striben bliver varmere i den gyldne time og dæmpes efter mørkets frembrud, med klarere stjerner på nattehimlen.
Den største tilføjelse er cirkusdirektøren — en speciel loppe i høj hat der vandrer mellem numrene og inspicerer showet. Han optræder ikke; han overvåger. At få hans patruljesti rigtigt betød at time hans gåture, så han ankommer lige når en nummerovergang er færdig, hvilket giver hele cirkusset en følelse af koreografi det ikke havde før.
Under motorhjelmen driver et komplet temasystem nu alt dette. Otte farvepaletter plus en auto-sæsonbetonet tilstand der vælger den rette baseret på måneden. Hver farve i hvert nummer og UI-element trækker fra det aktive tema, så skift føles sømløst i stedet for påklistret.
v1.1.0: To nye numre
Version 1.1.0 tilføjer jonglørnummeret og ildslugeren til holdet, så der nu er syv livecirkusnumre i alt. Begge kører på det samme energisystem, der driver resten af showet — dine tastetryk, musebevægelser og klik.
Jongløren følger flere bolde i ægte parabolske buer. Antallet skalerer med energi: to eller tre i tomgang, op til seks ved fuld kraft, med bag-om-ryggen-fangster, når publikum går amok. At få timingen til at passe krævede afkobling af hver bolds fase, så de ikke klumper sammen.
Ildslugeren bruger det eksisterende partikelsystem, men med en ny varmedis-effekt. Flammelængden vokser med energi, og klik producerer bonusudbrud. Den sværeste del var farveblanding — at få en glidende overgang fra dyb rød ved bunden til klar gul i toppen uden at det ser stribet ud.
Begge numre placeres i det eksisterende rotationssystem, så du ser dem skifte ind og ud sammen med de oprindelige fem. Hvis du vil fastgøre en favorit, lader indstillingspanelet dig nu slå individuelle numre til og fra.
Historien bag historiesiden
FleaWinders historieside dokumenterer over fire hundrede års rigtige loppecirkus — fra Robert Hookes mikroskoptegninger i 1665 til de optrædende på Oktoberfest, der stadig arbejder i dag. At skrive den krævede læsning af viktorianske plakater, digitaliserede avisudklip og et overraskende antal akademiske artikler om entomologisk underholdning.
Det sværeste var at beslutte, hvad der skulle udelades. Louis Bertolotto alene kunne fylde en bog (og det gjorde han — flere, faktisk). Kompromiset blev en tidslinje, der rammer de store begivenheder, og et sæt udvidbare afsnit til dem, der vil dykke dybere.
Siden bruger forbogstaver, dekorative skillelinjer og en serif-skrifttype for at give genklang af de opslag og plakater, den beskriver. Hvert afsnit er foldet sammen som standard, så læseren ikke overvældes, men det første afsnit er altid synligt med et forbogstav, der trækker dig ind.
Al tekst er tilgængelig på engelsk, spansk og tysk. Oversættelsesprocessen afdækkede fascinerende lokalhistorie — tyske Flohzirkus-traditioner ved Oktoberfest har for eksempel deres egen linje, der adskiller sig fra London- og New York-scenerne.
Hvorfor jeg byggede FleaWinder
Jeg ville have noget, der fik computeren til at føles levende — ikke på en forstyrrende måde, men som en stille ledsager, der reagerer på din tilstedeværelse. De fleste pauseskærme aktiveres, når du går; FleaWinder aktiveres, når du ankommer.
Idéen var simpel: tag alt det tomgangs-input dit styresystem ignorerer — rytmen i din tastning, hastigheden af din mus, kadencen i dine klik — og giv det til en trup af animerede cirkuslopper. Jo mere du arbejder, jo mere kommer showet til live.
At bygge det som et gennemsigtigt overlæg over proceslinjen viste sig at være den rigtige begrænsning. Det er altid synligt, men aldrig i vejen. Du interagerer ikke direkte med det; du arbejder bare, og det reagerer. Den tekniske udfordring var at gøre det virkelig klikgennemsigtigt, så det aldrig stjæler fokus.
FleaWinder er et kærlighedsbrev til det viktorianske loppecirkus — en ægte, århundredgammel kunstform, hvor urmakere spændte rigtige lopper til at trække miniatuevogne og gå på line. Historiesiden fortæller den historie i sin helhed.