When stone was first broken, it was broken into arrowheads, mortars. When wood was first carved, it was carved into tools, weapons, and shelter. When books were first bound, they documented statistics, merchant transactions, census numbers. When glass was first blown, it held fluids, nothing more. When canvas was first spun, it served to capture wind for trade ships.
All the achievements of humankind began life as tools to simplify and advance the prosaic functions of our society. But it would not be long before artists would carve stone and wood into statues, transcribe poetry and song into books, twist and tint glass into works of art, and paint the innermost workings of the soul on canvas.
Why, then, should the internet be treated any differently?
The internet began as a tool, but has grown into something far more. Yet still, few strive to use the internet to emote, to create a lasting and visceral connection with the user that lingers long after the browser window has been closed.
A website doesn't need to look like a website, nor should it lose its functionality to unchecked creativity. The digital ink and canvas laid over a carefully wrought lattice of code can be every bit as beautiful and functional as canvas stretched into sails.
After all, no one said a merchant ship couldn't be pretty.
