Perfection is a photocopier
We do not chase the clean edge. Every sheet leaves the drum with a ghost of the last one on it, a wobble in the register, a band where the ink ran thin. That is not a defect. That is the proof a human set the paper down.
Risograph studio — est. 2019
Two inks, one drum, zero apology. We make identities that look like they came off a machine that was in a hurry — because they did.
We do not chase the clean edge. Every sheet leaves the drum with a ghost of the last one on it, a wobble in the register, a band where the ink ran thin. That is not a defect. That is the proof a human set the paper down.
Orange and blue, multiplied, misaligned by exactly the width of a thumbnail. Constraint is the whole design system. When you only have two colours, every other decision gets louder — the type, the space, the silence between blocks.
Identity work that survives the risograph survives everything. If a mark still reads when it is a hundred sheets deep, slightly damp, and off by two millimetres, it was never decoration in the first place. It was a brand.