SIT FOR A PORTRAIT

Putting it on X

There is no honest way for a website to change your profile picture — that would need account access, and this page has none and wants none. So it is four steps and they are all yours:

1. Save the PNG — you get an 800-pixel square, which is comfortably more than X needs. On a phone this opens the share sheet, so you can pick Save Image and it lands in your photos; on a desktop it goes straight to Downloads.
2. Open x.com → Profile → Edit profile and tap the picture.
3. Choose the file. X will offer to crop it — leave it alone, it is already composed for the circle.
4. Save.

If the share sheet is not offered, Copy image is the other quick route on a phone: it puts the actual PNG on the clipboard so you can paste it straight into the upload sheet without hunting through Downloads. And tapping the portrait itself shows you the circle X will crop to, which is the one preview worth checking before you save.

Why it looks the way it does

The circle decides everything. X shows a profile picture as a circle and throws the corners away, then displays it at about forty-eight pixels in a timeline. So the portrait is built inside a safe radius, the sprocket holes sit in the ring just inside the crop, and the frame text is set along the bottom where a circle keeps it. The two previews on the easel are the whole design brief: one shows you what gets cut, the other shows you the only size most people will ever see it at. If a kitten reads as mud in that little circle, it is the wrong kitten.

Nothing is generated. No model, no queue, no cost, no upload. Every coat, condition, hat and bottle is a few dozen shapes drawn in the same palette and the same hand as the game — which means it is instant, it works with the network off, and there is no prompt box for anybody to put anything unpleasant into.

Every kitten has an address. The options encode to a ten-character code in the link, so Copy link to this kitten gives somebody the exact portrait rather than a screenshot of it. Change anything and the link changes with it.

Ten thousand and eighty combinations before you count film stock; forty thousand three hundred and twenty after. All of them were drawn against a stub before this page went up, to check that none of them throws and that the circular crop never cuts the cat’s head off. The tightest is the spoon entering frame, which comes within four pixels of the crop — and that one is on purpose, because a spoon coming in from off-camera is the whole reason this project exists.