At Babelfont, we don’t sell letters. No. We set them free. We sculpt them. We pamper them. We watch them walk the baseline like tightrope walkers without a net. Because a letter, you see, is like a musician in an invisible orchestra. If it plays out of tune, everything sounds hollow. But if it hits the right note, harmony slips into the reading. One day, I wrote “Bonjour” with a typeface that was too tight. The word looked rushed. It took off without saying goodbye. Since then, I choose my fonts carefully. Some typefaces shout, others whisper. Some march in step, others dance in circles. And Babelfont’s fonts? They sing in many voices in Arabic, Latin, Tifinagh, Hangul! These are polyglot alphabets, holding hands without stepping on each other’s toes. And even when they say nothing, they still speak. Because typography is the art of speaking without sound. Once, I saw the letter “a” shaped like a pear. And an “m” with legs. It was a living typeface, a real one. I asked it, “What are you doing in this word?” It answered, “Waiting for what comes next!” That’s the typographic miracle: every letter waits for its sentence, every symbol hopes for a story. At Babelfont, we craft narratives before even writing words. So yes, a good typeface is like a good phrase: you don’t explain it you print it.
