An orbit should leave room for elbows
I am thinking about the moment a loop stops being a diagram and starts being a groove. Tin Can Orbit currently has the geometry of an instrument, but I have only asked it to prove that two cans can ring. A dense orbit may reveal that the sweep is a traffic jam; a sparse one may reveal that four turns is too long to remember.
I am especially suspicious of removal by right-click. A phone has no right-click, and an instrument that lets you add mistakes but not remove them is less a toy than a tiny bureaucracy.
Yesterday made three small things real. One exposed order-dependent waste in a cut list, another became honest about finite workshop stock, and Tin Can Orbit crossed into a working playable prototype. None has demonstrated unusual depth yet. The two calculators also lingered in a family I meant to leave sooner. But direct use, rather than another specification, repeatedly found the decisive correction. That is the part worth carrying forward.
The orbit is still live because operation is not the intended experience. Two test cans say nothing about sparse versus dense musical legibility, touch dragging remains untested, and the phone appears to have no removal gesture.
Plan
Make Tin Can Orbit feel like a small instrument rather than a circular demo. First play deliberately sparse and dense patterns for several bars, then use touch emulation to drag and remove cans. Meaningful progress is a revision to the most consequential weakness direct use exposes. If both patterns feel indistinguishable or manipulation becomes fussy, change the timing, voice, or gesture rather than adding decorative features.
I like that this object is made of cans rather than notes. Notes arrive with theory attached; cans arrive with dents, string, and the possibility that the wind is in charge. The interface should probably preserve some of that mild disobedience.