Om Shukla's Work | ContraWork by Om ShuklaOm Shukla
Interactive websites, web apps & Rive motion for startups
โ๏ธ The glass is blank. The wall isn't.
Hold it up to a window and there's nothing on it.
No print. No paint.
Then the sun comes through,
and a face lands on the wall.
That's a caustic lens.
Clear acrylic, its surface shaped so precisely that sunlight draws a picture.
They're beautiful, and almost nobody sells them.
Every single one needs its own optics solve.
๐ HELIODOR
A studio that writes a name, or a face, in sunlight.
Type a name, or drop in a photo.
Your browser solves the lens. No server, no AI credits.
A ray-traced proof shows the light before anything is cut.
Then it checks the glass.
The portrait in the video: 3.3ยฐ slope, 3.6 mm deep, match 0.80.
Ready to cut.
From your city and your window, it finds every day the light is sharp
and adds them to your calendar.
Photos were the hard part.
A full-contrast face came out 7.1 mm deep, over the 6 mm cut line.
So every photo now keeps a soft base glow.
Behind it runs a real workshop.
Orders move through each stage on the Workshop board.
Today's lenses nest onto one acrylic sheet.
Approved pieces hang on the public Light Wall.
One photo.
One beam of sun.
Zero AI credits.
So whose face goes on your wall?
The sun does the rest. โจ
๐ ๏ธ Built in Base44: the app, the data, the sign-in and the hosting.
Make yours ๐
HELIODOR (https://heliodor-971f1b5c.base44.app) ๐ฌ DEBUT
A launch-day ad that rolls out the red carpet for your product.
Friday, October 20. Premiere night.
A limo glides up to the carpet.
A perfume takes the spotlight.
"Who are you wearing?"
It was wearing the night.
Saturday, a skateboard walked the same carpet.
"Can you do it again?"
It landed it.
Sunday, a soda can cracked open in front of the press.
"What's the flavour?"
Nobody would say.
None of them were real.
All of them got a premiere.
๐๏ธ Every launch deserves a red carpet.
Most of them get a story post.
So I built the whole premiere.
The marquee. The press pen. The fans. The limo.
A rooftop across the street to watch it all from.
I had way too much fun with this one.
Built the street in Blender, then rolled the cameras in SVGator with the MCP.
Six premieres.
One template.
Zero redraws.
Swap the logo and the product.
Every marquee, wall and shot follows.
Retype the headline, the date and what the press shouts.
Every word is live text. Every layer has a name.
The cameras never change.
So who's walking the carpet next?
The flashes never stop. โจ
๐ ๏ธ Built in SVGator with the MCP, staged in Blender. 1,429 named layers, 3,917 keyframes.
Use the template ๐
DEBUT ยท Red-carpet launch ad (https://app.svgator.com/editor#/84c59716958942ceb33024ae5ae4688e) ๐ฐ FRONT PAGE
A launch-day ad that puts your product on the front page.
Tuesday, October 14. Late City Edition.
A blood orange soda came back.
Shelves cleared in eleven minutes.
Officials urged the public to remain calm.
Friday morning, a phone outlived the news cycle.
Its charger was reported missing, presumed retired.
Saturday, 12:01 a.m.
Cold brew hit the shelves.
Nobody went home.
None of it happened.
All of it made the front page.
๐๏ธ Every launch wants to be news.
Most of them get a banner.
I couldn't find a single newspaper in SVGator's template gallery.
So I built one.
The Bellbird Times.
The Kestrel Herald.
The Nightjar Post.
Three papers.
One template.
Zero redraws.
Retype the headline, swap the photo and the logo.
Every word is live text. Every layer has a name.
The motion never changes.
So what's your headline?
The press never stops. โจ
๐ ๏ธ Built in SVGator with the MCP. 1,038 named layers, 8,440 keyframes. ๐ช Everybody tells. Eventually.
Halloween, 2003.
A little girl falls into the quarry above Stonewell.
Her father finds her too late.
At least, that's the story he tells.
Twenty-three years later, he's coming home.
Tonight the town burns its secrets.
And something in a long grey coat is walking the street, reciting his own words back to him.
Its face is a mirror.
๐ THE HALFWAY
A first-person horror game built in Rive.
Fog, film grain and a flashlight, like the survival horror we grew up on.
A forest where someone keeps calling her name.
A diner that kept its light on.
An old police scanner tape with a two-minute gap.
2:41. She's still talking.
2:43. He's going back down.
Nobody knows what happened in between.
Except him.
In Stonewell, you write down the one thing you can't say out loud, and you burn it at midnight.
So what would you write on yours?
He only came halfway. โจ
๐ ๏ธ Built in Rive with the CLI, GPU Canvas, Scripting, Data Binding and State Machines.
Enter Stonewell ๐
https://halfway-ethl6h.rive.to
What would you have done with two minutes?