Why Silky exists
Every assistant worth using lives in somebody else's cloud. You rent access by the month, your conversations sit on their servers, and the memory it keeps of you belongs to the platform — if the company changes the deal, your AI changes with it. I wanted the opposite: an agent that lives on the machine already sitting in front of you, that you own outright and answer to no account for. Silky started as a build for my brother, who doesn't code, so he could have exactly that — his own AI, on his own laptop, with his own keys. Then it turned out he wasn't the only one who wanted one.
The machine it lives on
Everything Silky knows about you sits in files on your own disk — its notes, its memory, its settings. You bring your own key: plug in the model provider you already use, or run a local model and skip keys entirely. And Silky asks first, every time — before it touches a file, opens a page, or moves your mouse. Computer control only runs while you're sitting there watching, and one hotkey — Ctrl+Alt+Esc — stops it cold. There's no behind-your-back, because there's no back office. It's your machine.
Who is behind it
Silky is built by Tracy Weaver, a software engineer in Cleveland, Ohio, and the founder of Solstice. No platform team, no venture roadmap — one builder, a small crew of AI assistants, and a standing rule that nothing ships until it's been tested on a real machine and verified. Silky is built the way it's meant to be used: a human directing, machines doing the lifting, and the human's name on the result.