This project didn’t start with a pitch deck.
It started with nearly 700 pages of conversation with an AI—
me trying to figure out how to express emotions without explaining them.
I kept circling around one thought:
What if a simple line or color held more honesty than a paragraph?
What if drawing—through pressure, rhythm, silence—
could be a language of its own?
And what if AI could respond to that language,
not by analyzing it,
but by softly offering something back—
a word, a hashtag, a name?
Not to define you,
but to help you recognize yourself.
That’s where DrawnHue began.
It’s not a therapy app.
It’s not here to fix you.
It’s here to meet you.
To sit with what’s been unspoken.
To gently mirror the feeling behind the gesture.
I’m from South Korea,
where emotional silence runs deep—
and so does the cost of it.
DrawnHue is my quiet response.
To emotional suppression.
To unspoken heaviness.
To the question:
“Am I allowed to feel this?”
I’m a creator, not a coder.
But I’d love to connect with anyone who’s curious—
about building a minimal prototype,
or just imagining what this could become.
This is not a tool for diagnosis.
It is a space for resonance.