Every coaching website in Britain seems to run the same three pictures: two people laughing at a laptop, a woman on a hillside with her arms out, and a close-up of a handshake. None of them is anybody’s client, and everyone knows it. Our work is confidential, which means we could not show you a real session even if we wanted to — so instead the practice draws its own marks. The three above are struck the same way: concentric quarter-arcs from a single centre, one filled disc, one horizon. It is the same figure as the wordmark, which is a sphere crossed by its own meridian, and it means what you would expect it to mean. If you would rather see faces, come to Park Square. Ruth will make the tea and you can see the actual room. The three hues are fixed across every piece and across the wordmark — a deep ink, a warm brass and a warm paper — and the rule the practice set itself is that no composition gets more than one filled circle. That constraint is why the set holds together. It is also a fair description of how the coaching works: one thing at a time, given the whole of the attention, and everything else drawn as a line.