Your photos already hold your life. Amoli lets you ask it — every moment findable, nothing ever uploaded.
It does this entirely on the device. The model lives on your phone. Your photographs, your words, and everything Amoli writes about them never leave it. There is no account to make, no server to sign in to, and nothing to upload.
Made by Amoli, on a phone, from photographs it read itself. Nothing left the device to make this.
See it
Twenty-five seconds, unedited: a question asked of a library, and the answer found — on the phone, and only there.Twenty seconds, unedited: a thread — one place, followed across the moments it gathered.
How it works
1It reads.
Every photograph, one at a time, described in plain words: who is there, where it seems to be, what is happening. The reading is yours to keep, correct, or ink as it stands.
2You name.
Name a face once. From then on Amoli calls that person by name wherever they appear — in readings, in answers, on cards.
3It makes.
Ask it anything about your own past — or let it make something: a card from a journey, a reverie from a season, a booklet from a thread. Yours to keep, and nothing leaves unless you send it.
What it makes
Everything below was made by Amoli on a phone, exactly as you'd send it. The photographs went in; these came out; nothing touched a server in between.
Montages. Cards from your journeys, your people, your threads — composed, written, and yours.Reveries. Real prose about your patterns, a season, a place — with your own photographs set into the page.The booklet. A thread typeset as a little book — cover, chapters, colophon — made entirely on the phone.Inside it. One moment to a page — the photograph, the line, the date — in Amoli’s own paper and ink.A living Today. Each morning, what Amoli read while you slept — and something it noticed about your own library.Your hand in it. Pick the photographs, the voice, the layout — or let Amoli offer, and reroll the line until it's right.
And inside
ColloquyA conversation with your own past. When were we in Kobe? What did we do that spring? Every answer comes from your library, never from the internet.
ThreadsThe subjects that run through your days — a café, a trail, a friendship. Amoli notices them and follows them across years.
People & PlacesThe faces that recur, known by name everywhere they appear. Everywhere your moments were collected, on a map you can wander.
Look backThis day, across every year you have kept.
CollectKeep a moment as it happens: photographs, and words in your own hand.
The first days
Amoli is slow the way a darkroom is slow — something is developing. Apps that do this in seconds do it by sending your photographs away; Amoli’s patience is the proof that nothing leaves. Here is honestly what the first days are like.
Minute oneYour photographs become a journal you can hold: browse your moments, collect today, name a face. Everything that doesn’t need reading doesn’t wait.
Night oneLeave the phone on its charger. Amoli reads while you sleep, and in the morning Amoli tells you plainly what it read — its own honest counter, every day.
The first weekThreads begin to surface. Factoids appear about your own library. The first reveries arrive. The readings deepen behind you while you simply use it.
Once, and doneThe model is a one-time download of about 4 GB over Wi-Fi, and a whole library reads over a few nights on the charger — the cost of nothing leaving your phone, paid once. Then it is done, for as long as you keep Amoli; new moments are read as they arrive.
Your language
Amoli reads and writes in your language — English, Spanish, French. It reads your photographs in the language you keep, so you can ask for them in it too.
Privacy is the whole design
No account. No server. No analytics. Nothing about you is collected, because there is nowhere for it to go. Read the policy.
What you’ll need
An iPhone 15 Pro or later. Amoli asks a great deal of the phone, so it launches on the higher-performance models first.
Wi-Fi for the one-time model download.
Patience for the first read-through — and then it is done, once, for as long as you keep Amoli.
Amoli is complete and free for fourteen days. After that, a subscription — $39.99 a year — keeps it reading, writing, and conversing. Nothing already made is ever taken back: everything it wrote stays open to browse, search, and ask, and collecting new moments stays free.
Priceless means not for sale — least of all your memories.