the poster
Your life in weeks, as a poster
Take your birth date and cut a life into weeks: one row per year, 52 cells across, the lived ones amber, the one you are in ringed. This page draws it the way the app draws it, and the picture is yours to keep. Download it, print it, hang it somewhere honest.
The calculator
That day doesn't exist in that month.
That date hasn't happened yet.
The file is a 2160 × 3840 PNG, sharp as a phone wallpaper, and it prints cleanly up to A3. On a phone, Share puts it straight into your photos or a message. Without a date it stays blank on purpose: an empty grid to cross off by hand.
The rows end at 83, where the statistics say an average life does. The app draws your grid to your own country's figure instead.
Drawn right here in your browser. Your birth date goes nowhere: no account, no upload, nothing stored.
How many weeks have you been alive?
Type your birth date above and the grid answers. The amber cells are the weeks you have lived, the ring marks the week you are in, and the line under the poster counts your days. The grid counts in rows of 52 and lets the odd day or two of each year fall away, so weeks and days will not divide into each other exactly. Both counts are right.
A life calendar, also called a memento mori calendar
The same grid goes by several names. A life calendar counts an average life in weeks: 52 cells across, one row per year, the lived ones filled in. Memento mori calendar is the older name for it, from the Latin for remember that you die. The grid says it without a word, which is why people hang it where they will see it every day. This page draws that calendar for you, free, from nothing but your birth date.
The idea is older than us. We wrote about where the grid comes from and why it lands. And we built finit because the picture deserves a record: in the app, the grid keeps itself, your screen time is set against it, measured honestly and kept for years. It never blocks and it never shames. The poster is the picture. The app is the record.
