DreamLayer

What it feels like

The display is a place, not a stage.

No feeds, no pings, no screens to check. A card of light and glass surfaces on the rim of your sight the moment it's useful — then files itself away. Nothing pops; everything arrives.

Oracle

Snake plant

water every 2 weeks

last done · Tuesday

M

Introduction

“Hi, I’m Maya.”

Maya · kept

she introduced herself · never strangers

Lucid Recall

North rack
4th & Alder

your bike

seen 8:12 AM · confidence high

Drift detected

Send the lease

→ Marcus

Friday before noon

Rosetta · ES → EN

“Grilled octopus,
house lemon.”

read back in yours

live · on device

01 / LOOK

Glance at a thing. Know it.

You look at the snake plant. A soft card: water every two weeks, last done Tuesday. A wine label — its region, and what you paid last time. Look → know, no phone out.

02 / MEET

Never forget a name.

Someone says “Hi, I’m Maya.” DreamLayer keeps it automatically and starts a quiet dossier. Next time you meet, it greets you with her name, when you last spoke, and what about — you never blank again. Only people who introduce themselves are ever kept; no stranger lookup, ever.

03 / ASK

“Where did I leave the bike?” North rack.

Your ambient second memory has been quietly keeping what matters — objects, places, promises. Say “Hey Oracle,” or just ask out loud. The answer often lands before you finish the question.

04 / KEEP

Promises drift to the rim and glow.

You promised Marcus the lease by Friday. As Friday nears, the promise drifts toward the edge of sight and starts to glow. You don’t forget. You never even had to write it down.

05 / READ

Every menu, in your language.

A menu you can’t read reads back in your own words, live, on your own hardware. Rosetta is the eye; Puente is the ear and voice.

The HUD, alive

See it move.

A live re-creation of how the display moves — drawn in your browser with the same palette and the same signature motion the glasses run: closed-form springs, flowing rim light, an answer that condenses in and files itself away.

The Horizon

Your day wakes with you

Aurora light flows along the rim; the now-notch beats at the top. Promises sit as embers at the edge, drifting closer as they come due.

Lucid Recall

The answer is a place

“Where are my keys?” The card shows where — the object as a jewel, a light trace down to you. It condenses in, breathes, then files itself away.

Saved Memory

One tap becomes a jewel

A spring-drawn check, a twelve-particle burst, concentric rings of light. Kept, and it feels kept.

every card above is real — the Meridian Solid pass, drawn by the shipping renderer, 256 px, one eye

In thirty seconds

Park it. Forget it. Ask.

The everyday loop — a glance, a nod, and it’s kept. Ask when you need it back, or just return: it resurfaces on its own the moment you’re near.

01
SaveGlance at your spot, a quick nod — kept.
02
AskHours later — “Hey Oracle, where did I park?”
03
RecallThe way back, on the rim of your sight.

Watch a full loop →

The six lenses

The whole product, at a glance.

Everything DreamLayer does groups into six lenses. Underneath them all: the Privacy Veil, and Atmosphere — the ambient light and feel.

tap a lens to open it

Memory

your life, remembered

Dream Mode · Ghost Layer · Lucid Recall · REM · Yesterlight · Premonition · Waypath

Dream ModeThe calm default — the glasses quietly sense your day without ever interrupting it.

Ghost LayerMemories echo in the places they happened — walk back in, and they’re there.

Lucid RecallAsk “where are my keys?” and the answer lands in a glance — including from your own files.

REMOvernight, the glasses replay and recombine your day — the dreaming is how memory settles.

YesterlightRoll your head back and the room replays its own light from earlier.

PremonitionYour routines shimmer just ahead of now — the 9 AM standup glows at 8:56.

WaypathDirection and distance to your own things: “keys, 12 m to your left.”

People

who’s around you — and never a blank

Social Lens · Timbre · Name Capture · Dossier — introductions only, never strangers

Social LensRecognises the people you chose to keep — and only them. Never strangers, never a public database.

TimbreFamiliar voices glow as waveforms at the rim of sight; strangers stay anonymous static.

Name CaptureSomeone introduces themselves out loud and the name is kept for you — automatically, no tap. Only self-introductions, never strangers; the Privacy Veil silences it like everything else.

DossierEvery name you keep grows a quiet dossier — when you last met, what you talked about, their last line, plus your own notes and tags. Next time you meet, the glasses greet you with it, so you never blank on a name again.

Truth

what’s true, and where beliefs come from

Veritas · Truth Lens · Candor · Provenance

Veritas — live fact-checkWhen a claim doesn’t hold up, a quiet verdict on the rim: green verified, amber check this, or red they said different before — with the basis, like an earlier “we settled at two million.”

Truth LensOutward: when you ask, a read on how credible what you’re hearing is. Explicit, never running in the background.

CandorInward: keeps your own story straight — “last week you said the deal closed at two million.”

ProvenanceBackward: trace any belief to who told you, when, and whether it held up since.

World

understand what you look at

Oracle (look → know) · Label Lens · AI Brain · Rosetta · Puente

OracleLook at anything and know it — the plant, the wine, the part number. Objects, never people.

Label LensYour own rules on what you’re holding: “you’re avoiding dairy,” “you returned this brand last year.”

AI BrainName and explain anything; ask your own files and mail. On-device first, your Mac mini next, cloud only if you switched it on.

RosettaThe eye: menus and signs you look at, read back in your language.

PuenteThe ear: live voice translation as the other person speaks.

Life

do, keep, and build

Commitment Drift · Saga · Reality Compiler (Rehearsal + Wayfinding)

Commitment DriftPromises live on the display — they bloom, drift toward the rim, and glow as deadlines near. You don’t forget.

SagaThe same promises as a personal RPG: streaks, XP, and rescues for the ones about to slip.

Reality CompilerTeach a behaviour once — rehearse it or walk it — and a verified routine runs it on-glass forever.

Together

two wearers, one sky

Confluence — bonds, the entangled sky, weather gifts

ConfluenceBond with another wearer: your ambient skies entangle when you’re together and drift apart when you’re not. Silent pings, weather as a gift — and only weather ever crosses. Never words, places, or names.

The architecture

Intelligence lives at the lowest tier that can do the job.

The phone names an object instantly and offline; a Mac mini on your LAN explains it richly from your knowledge; the cloud is only ever reached for the rare, hard, non-personal question — and only if you turned it on.

Tier 0 · BLE

Halo glasses

The display & sensors. A round HUD on the rim of your sight — the eyes of the layer.

Tier 1 · The hub

Your phone

Orchestrator, memory, and the privacy gate. The brain by default — instant, offline, yours.

Tier 2 · Your LAN

Mac mini Brain

A bigger local model plus your indexed files and mail. Never leaves the house.

Tier 3 · Opt-in

Cloud

Frontier reach for the hardest, non-personal asks. A switch you own — not a default you accept.

One code pairs the trio

Phone + Brain + glasses, scanned or pasted once. Nothing marked private ever leaves, in any configuration. Three ways in ↓

Scan it FASTEST The Brain’s control panel shows a QR code; point your phone at it. One scan carries the Brain’s address, its access token, and your glasses’ identity in a single dreamlayer: code — the trio is paired before the coffee cools.

Paste it NO CAMERA NEEDED The same code works as plain text — copy it from the panel and paste it into the app. Byte-for-byte identical to the QR, so it also works over a message to yourself or from another room.

Skip it WORKS OUT OF THE BOX No Mac mini? You’re already set: the phone is the brain by default, glasses connect over Bluetooth, and everything runs offline. Add a Brain any time later — same one code.

The software you run

Two apps you can run today.

Both testable now, before the glasses ship. The iOS app pairs your devices and puts your brain in your pocket; the Mac app turns a spare Mac mini into a private knowledge node on your own network.

iOS app

Your brain, in your pocket

Pair the trio with one code and own your privacy from a single screen — phone-first, cloud a switch you hold.

Ask from anywhere. “What does Marcus owe me?” answered from your own memory, not a search box.
Three switches, one screen. Phone-or-Mac brain, cloud on/off, and Incognito — flip capture and the cloud off for a whole session with one tap.
Mirrors the glasses. See the card that’s on the HUD right now, and manage the memories and people you’ve kept.

macOS · the Brain

A private knowledge node

Point it at a spare Mac and it becomes the smart, private half of your brain — indexing your world and serving it back, all on your own network.

Morning brief. One tap synthesises what’s new and what’s on you — across your messages, mail, and everything you’re tracking.
Knows your day & your people. Reads macOS Calendar, Contacts, and Reminders so the glasses greet who you’ve met and surface what’s due — read-only, nothing leaves.
Answers from your files. Index chosen folders and mail; keyword search needs zero setup, and a local model adds written answers and vision — no cloud required.