A day taken at one's own unhurried pace.
One photo, one color, one line.
That's how a day stays.
Open the app and today is already there — a photo, the day's mood on it, one line beside it.






The day's mood seeps into the photo
At the end of the day, pick today's color. It doesn't sit in a dot. It seeps into the photo and becomes the air of that day.
One line for the day
It can be anything. A thought out of nowhere, a line you never let go of, words that only mean something to you that day.
Time at your fingertips
Swipe sideways and yesterday arrives. Then the day before. One swipe, one day.
How mo.Days flows
Capture the moment
Keep it, no pressure
Complete the day
Sort it out when you're free
A life, recorded
Open it again, anytime
Everything stays, down to the temperature.
An entry holds more than words and photos. What time it was, where you were, who was with you, what the air felt like — it all stays together.
- WeatherFrozen as it wasOpen an entry three years from now and that spot is still 25°F.
- PlaceKept by the name you call itNot “Coffee Co. #3” — “that window seat.”
- PeopleWho you met, who you thought ofYou can add someone who wasn't there but came to mind.
- Late nightPast midnightLeave the time at 1 a.m. and let the entry belong to yesterday.

Throw it down now.
Finish it later.
The moments worth keeping arrive when your hands are full. So you drop a fragment and come back later.
A fragment stays a fragment
One line is enough. So is one photo. So is nothing but where you're standing.
No need to open the app
One button on the Lock Screen saves it without unlocking your phone. Put it on the Action button, or just ask out loud.
Scattered pieces become a journey
Drop one at every stop and tie them together later. The hours and distance between them surface on their own.


Answer a few questions, and the day is done.
Every evening it asks once: how was today? On nights you've already wrapped up, it doesn't call.

Just answer what it asks
It goes in order and skips what doesn't apply.

One color is enough
On a day you wrote nothing, one color is a complete day.

Today's face, at the end
The day's card appears at the end. See how today will stay, then close.
Closing isn't final. Change your mind later and tap that day's closed-book button to open it again. A few days ago or years ago, it works the same.
No digging through thousands. Your best photo finds itself.
Two photos, side by side. Pick the one you lean toward. That's it — it runs like a tournament bracket.

Day
Week
Month
Year
Lifetime
All you did was choose between two.
The choosing becomes part of the story
Pick differently later, and your past picks still stay.
Can't decide? You don't have to.
Some pairs can't be called. Leave them open and come back anytime.

Find it without knowing when.
What you remember is rarely the date. It's who was there, where you were, what you talked about.
By anything but the date
Stack conditions to narrow it down. It searches your words, tags, names, places, and every day's line.
Gather by person
Press and hold a name while reading, and every day that person appears in gathers in one place.
Name a stretch of time, later
Pull up five years of “commute,” then name all of it “The A Corp Years” at once.


Nothing shows that anything is hidden.
A locked folder is already a confession.
There's nothing more to show you.
Your entries would say the same.
Not locked. Just not there.
Private entries don't get a padlock. They're simply not there.
When someone asks to look
Give them a different passcode. The app opens perfectly with it. Only what you keep private is missing.
When there's no time to type
One gesture you set switches over on the spot.
Off means it doesn't exist
If you don't use it, the word “hidden” appears nowhere in the app.
Not deleted. Just set aside.
Not wanting to see something and wanting it gone are different things.
It just steps aside
Put an entry in the archive and it leaves the timeline, search, and Photo Pick. One more answer for the things you almost deleted.
Bring it back anytime
Take it out and it returns exactly where it was.
Not the same as hiding
It isn't for keeping things from others. It's a place for what you don't want in view right now.


Ten years from now, your memoir is already written.
A day is a page. A month is a chapter. A year is a volume.
Day
Week
Month
Decade
From a day to a decade
The further down, the closer to a day. The further up, the closer to a life.
Words from that season
Newlywed. Exam year. Words that belonged to one stretch of time turn out to be its name.
Not a highlight reel
No algorithm picked these. The colors, photos, and lines are the ones you chose. You're the editor, start to finish.
And more
When the phone changes
It carries over through iCloud, original photos included. Open a new phone and it's all there.
Your own backups, too
Restoring brings back only what went missing. Nothing you wrote in between is overwritten.
If you use mo.Today
The to-dos you finished and the routines you kept are already waiting in the evening wrap-up. Just pick what to keep.
View mo.Today on the App Store