Asterism draws your life as dots — one for every week, 52 to a row, one row for every year. The weeks you have lived are filled with light. The current week breathes. The rest is open sky.
Not a tracker. Not a coach. A calm way to see the shape of a life and mark the moments that gave it shape.
Fifty-two weeks to a row, one row per year, out to a ninety-year horizon. No scrolling — it already fits. Pinch from the full sky down to a single week.
The first date. The big move. The week your child arrived. Eight colors for eight kinds of moments, and the grid becomes a constellation no atlas contains.
There is no account. There is no server. The app has no network access at all — the promise is built into the binary, not the privacy policy.
That is the only thing Asterism ever asks for. Your lived weeks flood in with light and settle on this one, glowing gold.
Tap a week, name what happened, choose a color. Past weeks fill; future ones you plan draw as an open circle — filled memory, outlined hope.
A quiet list of everything you have marked, year by year. An asterism is a constellation people named themselves, because it mattered to them.
Each moment carries a color and a small glyph, so a life reads at a glance — and no meaning ever rides on color alone.
Week 1,634. This one is yours.An estimate, not a promise. The dots just make it visible.
A blank week is still a lived week, and the app stays silent between them. It never nags, never guilts, and never asks for anything twice.
A text-selection-style card finds any week — and the moments it holds — right under your thumb, with the date and your age beneath it.
From the full sky down to a single week. Pinch is the only way in; at rest, your life never scrolls — it already fits on the screen.
Export your grid as a night-sky poster or a wallpaper. Anonymous dots by default; your colors if you choose. Straight to the share sheet.
Everything stays on this device. There is no account. There is no server. The app has no network access at all — the promise is built into the binary, not the privacy policy.
No analytics, no telemetry, no advertising identifiers. Your life exports as a plain, readable file whenever you want it, and leaves only when you send it.
One-time purchase, everything included. No subscription, no in-app purchases, nothing to unlock, nothing to renew.
Ninety years is an estimate, not a promise. The dots just make it visible. What you do with the empty ones is the point.