The first studio we rebuilt was our own.
The studio sold a subscription and described it in words nobody could picture.
Two mockups from our own archive are what is left of the 2025 site. A purple mark, a Login button, a Get Started button, and one paragraph that opened with: “Pulsenova is the only digital partner you need to achieve comprehensive digital transformation.”
The section headings went the same way. Our Portfolio built to Impress. Seamless Collaboration, Limitless Possibilities. Future-Proof by Design. Powerful Tools. Read all four and you still could not say what the studio actually made, or for whom.
The work behind it was real. The words in front of it were not doing their job.
Seamless.Limitless.Meaningless.
Four things left the site, and one of them was the business model.
The subscription language went, the retainer did not. Pulsenova still works on a monthly rhythm, but inside a frame that carries several founders and companies at the same time without overloading any of them, and that stays open to smaller studios that actually need the growth. What went was the Login and the claim that one plan solves everything.
The purple went. The mark is now oxblood on paper, set in PP Editorial New, which is the same typeface the client work is set in. The stock-photo collages went, because every image on the site now comes from a real project.
And the headline lost a word. Designs people will remember became Designs people remember. Future tense is a promise. Present tense is a claim you have to stand behind.
Paper, one typeface, and a page that says what the studio does in the first line.
The site is built in Webflow on the same stack the client work runs on: GSAP for motion, Lenis for scroll, Barba for page transitions, Slater for the JavaScript. The whole home page weighs 241 KB.
The site says what the studio does in the first line, and every image on it comes from a real project. That was the whole point of the rebuild: a page you can read once and repeat back to someone else.
Four homes, each one with its own hero and its own movement.
No shared template runs underneath these. Become A Yogi opens its photographs like curtains, FC Rotkreuz runs a chapter rail down a night-dark page, Zur Linde moves sideways through a room, and this site splits the screen. The system is the method, not the layout.
AI does not do the work here. It removes the parts of it that repeat.
Nothing on this site was generated and shipped. Every page is drawn, written and built by hand, and that is the part a client pays for. What AI does inside this studio is narrower and far more useful: it takes the work that repeats and gives the hours back to the work that does not.
The clearest example runs every day. A carousel for LinkedIn and Instagram used to cost an afternoon: layout, typesetting, export, filing. Inside the Pulsenova AI Workspace it costs a brief and a review, because the layout system, the type rules and the export are already written down. Between 15 July and 5 August 2026 that produced 25 posts in 22 days, one per day, without a single template.
The same rule carries the rest of the studio: research that used to take a morning, image preparation, the weekly build note, the checks that catch a broken link before a client does, and the method documents below. We put it where the work repeats. We keep it away from the thinking and the craft, because that is the part you cannot buy back.
The method is written down, so it can be handed over.
Two of these exist so far. UX Pillars turns a dense brief into the design laws of a project, before a single screen is drawn. Directing a World-Class AI Animated Short is the film method: a small set of paragraphs, written once and pasted word for word into every generation, so a character and a world hold across an entire film instead of drifting after the second shot.
They are the reason a second project in the same world starts on day one instead of at zero, and the reason a client can rerun a piece of work without asking us.
Made slowly, shipped weekly. The second half of that sentence is the one that costs something.
A studio that publishes its own work every week cannot hide behind a portfolio from two years ago, and it cannot promise a client a speed it does not hold itself. The workspace is how a small studio carries several founders at once without any of them waiting. That is the whole reason this page exists.