All knowledge begins as sound.

We travel to the source — to the knowledge keeper, the community, the living tradition. We record. We ask questions. We sit in the difficulty of not yet understanding. This stage cannot be rushed and cannot be skipped.

Oral memory meets written form.

Narration becomes storyline. The logic of the oral tradition is preserved, not domesticated. We transcribe not only the words but the structure; the sequence, the repetition, the weight that certain moments carry in the telling.

Words are translated into images.

The essence of every keyframe is distilled. What does this moment look like? What colour carries this feeling? What visual tradition holds this knowledge most faithfully? These are research questions, not design decisions.

Paper meets its first strokes.

Characters are composed. A visual language emerges. The storyboard is the most iterative stage — the one where understanding deepens, where things are drawn and discarded, where the source tradition teaches us what we have not yet understood.

Lines meet colour.

Out of the emotional essense of each keyframe, colours are chosen, their combinations decided, then painted. The painting process is not production; it is the final act of understanding.

The object comes into being.

All of it — the oral, the written, the visual — is brought together into a manuscript. The paper, the printing, the binding, the trim. The finished object is the condensed result of every stage that preceded it.