Samsung is poised to redefine the smartphone landscape with the highly anticipated Galaxy S27 series, scheduled for release in early 2024. This flagship lineup will consist of four distinct models: the Galaxy S27, S27 Plus, S27 Pro, and S27 Ultra. Each device is designed to cater to a wide range of user preferences, with the […]
Snap’s SPECS glasses aim to bring augmented reality (AR) into everyday life with a focus on blending digital content seamlessly into real-world environments. As detailed by Cas and Chary XR, these first-generation glasses feature see-through displays, positional tracking, and AI-driven functionality, offering a glimpse into the potential of consumer-grade AR. However, their $2,195 price tag […]
Apple has introduced the Apple TV 4K 4th generation, marking a significant advancement in smart home technology. Announced during the October 13 “Welcome Home” event, this latest release underscores Apple’s dedication to creating a seamlessly connected home ecosystem. Alongside the Apple TV, the event highlighted updates to the HomePod mini and teased several upcoming smart […]
ChatGPT Codex is an AI-powered system designed to assist with a variety of tasks, including video editing. Kevin Stratvert demonstrates how pairing Codex with the Hyperframes plugin can simplify common editing challenges. For instance, Codex can automatically sort raw video files into coherent sequences, reducing the time spent on manual organization. This approach allows creators […]
Ring Indoor Cam 4K vs Pan-Tilt Indoor Cam 2K: video quality, zoom, 360-degree coverage, privacy shutter, Wi-Fi and US prices compared for indoor security.
Apple has officially confirmed its October 13 event, and we are expecting a range of new products and updates aimed at enhancing smart home technology and strengthening its ecosystem. The event will introduce the HomePad smart home hub, a collaboration with LG on smart accessories, an upgraded Apple TV 4K, and the long-awaited refresh of […]
Your camera roll holds 14 near identical photos of the same pasta dish, and you will never open a single one. We call it documenting our lives, but it looks a lot more like feeding a landfill. Every tap of the shutter adds another bag, and nobody has ever gone digging through the pile for a good memory. We take more pictures than any generation in history and look at almost none of them, which is a funny way to treat the things we claim to care about. Await, from Swiss company Rolling Square, is the intervention.
Await is a pocket digital camera that treats a roll of film as a rule instead of a nostalgia trip. It gives you 24 shots per roll, no preview screen, and a tiny OLED that counts down your remaining frames like a nervous accountant. Sync it with the free app and the whole roll gets “developed” through a vintage film filter, then you decide whether to order 6×4 prints. It first showed up at CES 2026, and we covered that debut back in January when details were still thin. Now the full picture is here, from the translucent shell to the xenon flash, and it’s more thought out than the disposable-camera look suggests.
A frosted shell, visible circuitry, and a magnetic face you can swap
The body is frosted translucent plastic with the circuit board visible through it, a look that goes straight back to the clear Game Boy Color and the original iMac. It measures 3.86 x 2.68 x 0.59 inches (98 x 68 x 15 mm) and weighs 3.27 ounces (92.7 g), which puts the footprint about 44% larger than a credit card. That is small enough for a jeans pocket and light enough that you will forget it’s there until you want it. The front plate is magnetic, so the color is a snap-on decision, with blue, pink, teal, green, and yellow on offer. Orange buttons pop against the frosted plastic, and I’m a sucker for that contrast.
A wrist strap ships in the box, and a longer neck or crossbody strap comes as an add-on. Both are orange and Await-branded, and each clips on through a small cord buckle threaded into the side loops. A threaded tripod mount sits on the base, which pairs nicely with the 10-second self-timer for group shots. Torx screws on the back mean the shell can be opened, and Rolling Square describes the design as expandable for future add-ons. I love seeing screws on a device like this, since it signals a camera meant to be kept rather than tossed.
Eight megapixels, a real xenon flash, and two buttons
An 8MP Sony IMX179 sensor sits behind a fixed f/2.0 lens at 2.8 mm, roughly a 26 mm equivalent in full frame terms, with a field of view around 65 to 72 degrees. That is a classic point-and-shoot wide angle, wide enough to fit a dinner table into the frame. Eight megapixels sounds modest, but it is plenty for a 6×4 print. Framing happens through an optical viewfinder, a plain window that draws no power. The xenon flash is a real gas-discharge tube, the same technology found in classic film cameras and studio strobes, and it gives the hard, frozen look an LED cannot fake.
Only two buttons run the whole camera. The shutter button fires the shot, and holding it for three seconds powers the camera on or off. The function button on the back toggles the flash with a tap and the 10-second self-timer with a 1.5-second hold. Everything else lives on the OLED, which shows battery level in four bars, flash and timer status, rolls remaining (3/3 means three fresh rolls), and shots left on the current roll. A small buzzer gives shutter, timer, and system sounds. Power comes from a 1000 mAh battery charged over USB-C, with Bluetooth 5.2 and Wi-Fi handling the sync.
From sync to print, and what it all costs
Fill a roll and the camera hands everything to the Await app, which is free on iOS and Android with no subscription. Rolling Square says the filter comes from a study of vintage photographs and was tested across thousands of pictures and dozens of lighting conditions. The sample shots carry an orange date stamp, which tells you exactly which decade it’s cosplaying. The camera holds up to three rolls, or 72 pictures, and a sync empties it for the next outing. To skip the filter, connect the camera to a PC or phone over USB-C and grab the original files, uncompressed and untouched. Files pulled through the app are converted, and the originals no longer exist there.
Automatic mode queues each finished roll for 24 hours, giving you a window to skip it, then prints at $8.99 per roll plus shipping from $4.99. Manual mode prints on demand at $9.99 per roll plus shipping, and either way you only pay when a roll goes out. Each roll delivers 24 prints at 6×4 inches. The camera costs €129 (about $146), with early pricing from €89 (about $101), and a full kit with both straps and two extra faceplates lists at €157. Orders are open now on Kickstarter, shipping is expected from December 2026, and the page lists a 2-year warranty with 30-day returns. Fewer photos, better odds that one ends up on your fridge.
From the riverbank in Buckinghamshire, Formosa does not immediately look like a piece of experimental engineering. That restraint is part of its appeal. Designed by Baca Architects along the River Thames, the 225-square-metre, three-storey home has the pitched roof, generous glazing, and garden relationship of a contemporary riverside house. For most of the year, that is exactly how it behaves. The unusual part is buried beneath it. Formosa sits inside a concrete wet dock and has been designed to leave the ground when the river rises.
The house was developed for a site within a designated flood zone, where building in the conventional sense presented a difficult choice. A permanently elevated house could have cleared projected flood levels, but doing so would have pushed the main living floor almost an entire story above the garden. Instead, Baca Architects designed the structure to remain close to the landscape during ordinary conditions and move only when the water makes movement necessary. The ground floor sits roughly 1 meter above ground level, preserving a much more immediate relationship between the house, its terraces, and the river beyond.
Its mechanics are surprisingly straightforward. Beneath the building is a concrete pontoon that acts as a buoyant base. During a flood, water enters the surrounding concrete dock and gradually lifts the house. Four vertical guideposts, sometimes described as dolphins, keep the structure aligned as it rises, preventing it from drifting or rotating. Flexible service connections move with the building, allowing electricity and water services to remain connected as the house changes elevation. In its current configuration, Formosa can rise as much as 2.7 meters. Baca Architects reports that during the severe winter floods of 2019 and 2020, the house rose and settled back down as intended.
What makes the project compelling is that the engineering does not demand constant attention from the people living inside it. There are relatively few moving parts. The river itself provides the force required to lift the building. As the dock fills, buoyancy does the work. The concrete base is engineered with enough weight and ballast to keep the structure stable, while the guideposts control its vertical movement. The system is tested periodically by filling the dock with water and checking the building’s ability to float safely. Formosa is less a machine disguised as a house than a house designed to understand the physical behavior of water.
The garden is part of that system too. Terraced levels create what Baca calls an intuitive landscape, allowing rising water to become visible before it reaches the house. Reeds, shrubs, lawn, and changing ground levels create an informal warning system that makes flood behavior readable through the landscape. Instead of treating water as something that must remain outside the boundaries of domestic life, Formosa builds an expected relationship with it.
The sectional logic reveals the project most clearly. Its main components can be read almost like a diagram of adaptation: solar shading, the pontoon beneath the house, the terraced garden, maintenance access, flexible connections, and a servicing hub. Each element has a fairly ordinary architectural or technical role. Together, they allow the entire building to change its position without fundamentally changing how it functions.
There is, of course, a cost attached to that adaptability. Baca has estimated that the amphibious system added around 20 percent compared with a similar conventional house with a basement. Specialized foundations, a wet dock, high water table construction, flexible utilities, and flood planning mean the idea is considerably more complex than simply placing a house beside a river. Yet the project makes an interesting argument about what that additional investment buys. Instead of permanently raising the architecture in anticipation of a rare event, the building maintains an everyday connection to the ground and reacts only when conditions demand it.
That distinction gives Formosa significance beyond its engineering novelty. It suggests that resilience does not always have to look defensive. Architecture facing environmental uncertainty can retreat, resist, or, in this case, move. From the garden, the house remains close enough to feel grounded. When the Thames rises, the section of the building quietly changes. The river lifts the house, the guideposts hold its position, the services travel with it, and once the water recedes, Formosa returns to exactly where it started.
Because I grew up in the ’80s and ’90s, watching Gen Z and Gen Alpha kids lose their minds over stuff from those decades is honestly hilarious to me. It’s also making my back ache a little, if I’m being honest. But kidding aside, it’s genuinely fun to watch things like cassette tapes, typewriters, and old game consoles get a second life with a whole new generation. Analog cameras and their accompanying gear have been especially popular over the past few years. Now we’ve got something that flips the trend on its head: a fully digital device dressed up in analog clothing.
If you’ve ever handled an actual roll of 35mm film, the Analog Capsule Camera will look instantly familiar. But pick it up and take a closer look, and you’ll realize it’s not what it appears to be. As the name suggests, it’s actually a digital camera shaped like a roll of film, analog on the outside but fully digital on the inside. It’s a nostalgic way to document your life in a very digital age.
Even though it’s a digital camera, don’t expect image quality you can compare to what your phone produces. But that’s kind of the whole point. The 1-megapixel CMOS sensor is deliberately low-resolution, so you end up with grainy, soft photos with blown-out highlights, probably pretty close to what a lot of us remember from actual analog days. It’s a design choice, not a shortcoming. Like other keychain-style cameras on the market, this one is impressively light. At just 25 grams, it can weigh less than your average set of keys. That means you can clip it to your keychain, bag, belt loop, or wherever else you want a camera within arm’s reach. An included strap makes it that much easier to carry around, so it’s ready the moment something catches your eye.
Despite the featherweight build, the Analog Capsule still packs practical features. Photos save to a microSD card, so you’re not stuck fumbling with film rolls or waiting on a lab. A USB-C port handles both charging and photo transfers, and built-in digital playback lets you review a shot the second after you take it, something an actual film camera could never offer. In an era when most cameras brag about megapixel counts, sharpness, and endless feature lists, a lo-fi device like this feels like a breath of fresh air. The grain and blown highlights aren’t flaws to apologize for. They’re exactly what you’re paying for.
So how does it stack up against the competition? The closest rival is probably Kodak’s own Charmera, a similarly priced keychain camera that also leans into lo-fi digital photos rather than real film. Both cameras are chasing the same feeling: nostalgia without the hassle. Where the Analog Capsule pulls ahead is presentation. Its film-canister disguise and matching packaging make it a genuine conversation piece before you’ve even taken a photo, while the Charmera plays it more straightforward. If you’d rather skip digital altogether, Kodak also sells the EC35, a real 35mm point-and-shoot for about the same price, though you’ll be paying for film and developing on top of that. And if physical prints are what you’re after, Fujifilm’s Instax line remains the reigning champ, though you’ll spend more upfront and keep spending on film packs afterward. Compared to all of them, the Analog Capsule’s appeal is that it never asks you to buy another consumable again. Just point, shoot, and plug in.
At $55, the Analog Capsule Camera isn’t trying to replace your phone or your real vintage camera collection. It’s something else entirely: a tiny, playful object that turns picture-taking into a small ritual again, minus the cost and waiting that used to come with it. Whether you’re gifting it to the nostalgic Gen Xer in your life or handing it to a Gen Z kid who’s never actually shot on film but loves the aesthetic anyway, it manages to bridge two very different relationships with photography. And honestly, in a world of increasingly complicated cameras, there’s something refreshing about a device that just wants you to enjoy the grain.
I have a soft spot for lamps, but less patience for the way we buy them. Pick a shape, pick a spot, and hope both still make sense after the next move or furniture shuffle. If they don’t, the lamp goes into a closet and we start shopping again. Joanne Odisho’s Mod-u offers another option: a light designed to be rearranged as a room changes. Its most surprising feature is that the pieces are made from discarded eggshells.
Mod-u takes its name from “modular” and “you,” which tells you where Odisho wants the creative control to sit. The lamp is made from rearrangeable blocks, so its silhouette isn’t fixed when you first bring it home. One arrangement might feel right beside a sofa; another could give a bedroom a different focal point. I like that the design makes room for a change of mind. With most lighting, choosing the object means accepting its shape for as long as you own it. Here, that decision can be revisited.
The blocks have a chunky, stacked quality that makes Mod-u look almost like a tabletop sculpture. That playfulness matters. Modular furniture can sometimes feel like a puzzle you have to solve before you’re allowed to enjoy it, but this looks inviting even before you understand how it works. Odisho has described the project as a lamp that can grow, shrink, and change with the spaces people inhabit. It’s easy to imagine adjusting it after a move, but also after a much smaller shift, like deciding that a corner needs less visual weight.
Then there are the eggshells. Odisho collects them from local cafés, sterilizes and dries them, and grinds them into a powder. Mixed with a biopolymer, the powder becomes a moldable material that sets without firing. She leaves the pieces to dry naturally for about a week. The finished blocks retain the subtle variations of the shells because she doesn’t add dye. That seems like the right call to me. The material has an origin worth seeing, and its warm, uneven tones give the lamp more character than a perfectly uniform finish would.
Eggshells are an appealing starting point, but they aren’t the whole story. A product can use discarded material and still become another object we tire of quickly. Mod-u’s more convincing sustainability argument is that its design gives an owner a reason to keep using it. Reconfiguration won’t make a lamp fit every room or every taste, and it doesn’t remove the need to think about the complete product at the end of its life. It does, however, challenge the assumption that wanting a fresh look requires buying a fresh object.
That’s also why Mod-u feels more interesting to me than a lamp that simply advertises its unusual ingredients. The eggshell composite catches your attention, but the invitation to rearrange the blocks is what might hold it. We often talk about adaptable design as though it’s purely functional, all efficiency and clever engineering. This has a more personal appeal. You can respond to your own space rather than trying to preserve the exact arrangement a designer photographed. The result may be less polished, but it would be yours.
Odisho’s idea has already received significant recognition: Mod-u won the 2026 Australian Furniture Design Award. The award includes an opportunity to work with furniture company Stylecraft toward commercial production, which makes the next step especially interesting. A compelling design concept has to survive the realities of making, selling, and using it at a larger scale. I’d be curious to see how much of Mod-u’s tactile, experimental quality carries through if it reaches more homes. That quality is central to its appeal, not a detail to smooth away.
For now, Mod-u offers a useful way to rethink a familiar household purchase. A lamp is often treated as the finishing touch, something you choose after the room is settled. But rooms rarely stay settled for long, and neither do the people living in them. Odisho has made a light that acknowledges both changes. The eggshells give it a memorable story; the movable pieces give it a reason to stay. Between those two ideas, Mod-u makes a thoughtful case for keeping what we own interesting a little longer.