Bring your own AI agent.
MojoPad now ships a local MCP server — a bridge that lets an AI agent build and search your wikis for you. Point Claude, Claude Code, Cowork, or Dispatch at MojoPad and say “make a wiki from the documents in this folder,” or “what does my wiki say about onboarding?” It all runs on your Mac; nothing about your wikis leaves your computer.
- One-click setup. In Settings ▸ AI Agents, click Add to Claude Desktop or Add to Claude Code and you’re connected — no separate install, nothing to run yourself. Setting up Claude Desktop also lights up Cowork and Dispatch, which share its connections. A Copy config button covers any other MCP client.
- Build a wiki from your documents. An agent can create a wiki and fill it from a folder — Markdown and text become editable pages, images are embedded, and PDFs, EPUBs, and Word files come in as attachments you can open and read. It can also add pages and list, read, or search a wiki on disk, whether or not MojoPad is open.
- Ask the wiki you have open. With the live connection on, an agent can ask a question of your open wiki and get a cited answer from your pages, search it by meaning (not just keywords), and add a page that appears as it’s written — all through your own local AI.
- You hold the keys. Two switches, both off until you choose. “Let agents reach the wiki that’s open right now” turns on the live features; the connection runs only on your own computer, guarded by a private key, so a web page can’t reach it. “Allow agents to modify wikis you already have” is separate — off by default, an agent can create new wikis and read yours, but not change them.
Also in this release:
- Poster export. Click ⤓ Poster on the graph and the view you’re looking at — same camera, same theme — becomes a high-resolution image, stamped with the document’s name and the date. Share it, print it, or keep one a month as a time-lapse of your wiki growing up.
- The graph learned to sleep. The memory diet continues: after a couple of minutes of stillness the map’s ambient shimmer drops to a slow tick, cutting its processor draw to a fraction, and a hidden window paints nothing at all. Touch it and it wakes instantly — you’ll never see it sleeping, but your battery will.
- Big wikis stop being hairballs. Past a few hundred pages the graph now spends its ink wisely: the weakest incidental links stop drawing (hover still reveals them), page names go first to the hubs and recently-touched pages that give the map its shape, and lonely pages you haven’t opened in weeks settle into a quiet dust of stars — present, clickable, but no longer shouting. Small wikis are untouched.
Film the replay. The Timeline’s play button has always let you watch your wiki grow, page by page, in creation order. Now one more button records that replay straight off the canvas and saves it as a video — a year of thinking as a twenty-second time-lapse, ready to share.- The Atlas. Big wikis stop shrinking and start ZOOMING: past a few hundred pages, territories come on by themselves, and zooming out turns your themes into named landmasses — sized by their pages, joined by bundled routes carrying the link traffic between them — while only each region’s anchor pages remain as stars. Zoom in and streets return: hubs first, then every page and edge. A five-hundred-page wiki finally looks like what it is — a world, not a hairball.
The Garden. Five unhurried minutes, staged on the living map: orphans drift to a nursery row and offer their best homes (Plant it / Leave wild / Compost), a brittle bridge asks for a second road, and fading pages offer themselves for watering. One card at a time, a visible end, an honest count — maintenance that finally feels like gardening.
Load-bearing pages. A structural lens that finds the pages holding your wiki together — remove one and a whole neighborhood breaks away. Each keystone is lit on the map with how many pages it carries, and Build a second road adds one connection around it so no single page is a point of failure. Honest graph math, no AI required.- ✦ Strange bridges. The inverse of search: one click finds two pages that read as completely different worlds yet sit only a couple of links apart — the route lights up, and your local AI names the hidden thread in a sentence (“both are systems you feed on a schedule…”). Not “find me this” but “show me something I didn’t know I knew.”
- Trails — desire paths on the graph. Parks planners know: people walk where they need to go, and the grass remembers. Click ⋱ Trails on the graph and the routes you actually travel between pages appear as worn amber footpaths — daily routes burn bright and wide, abandoned ones grass over and fade within weeks. And when a well-worn trail connects two pages with no link between them, MojoPad points at it: you’ve walked this 14 times — pave it? One click turns your habit into a real connection.
- Your split-view layout survives a restart. Reading in the split pane on one side and taking notes on the other? MojoPad now remembers that two-pane setup per document — reopen the document after quitting and the same page returns to the split pane, at the width you left it. (A reader keeps an EPUB open beside their notes — thank you.)
- Readers remember where you left off. Open a PDF or an EPUB, read partway in, quit — and next time it resumes right where you were: a PDF at the same page, an EPUB at the same spot (anchored to the chapter, so it survives a resize or a font change). Works whether the book is in the main editor or the split pane, so the reading-beside-notes setup comes back exactly as you left it. (The same reader’s follow-up — thank you.)
- Ask your journal. The AI drawer has a fourth scope — Journal — that answers only from your daily notes (there’s a ✦ Ask button in the Journal’s masthead too). Time phrases in the question pick the days: “how was my week?”, “what was on my mind in June?”, “what changed since April?” — and every written day in that window is read, not a search’s best guesses. Short stretches are read whole; a whole year is read in stages so nothing gets skipped. Answers cite the days they drew from — click a chip to jump to that day. Ask it for patterns, for open loops, for the things you said you’d do and never mentioned again — your journal finally talks back.
- Pick a paragraph style without leaving the keyboard. Press ⌃⌘S and the whole style dropdown becomes a little list — Body, six headings, Quote, Code block, and the three list kinds — with your current style preselected. Type a few letters to filter, Enter applies, and your cursor lands exactly where it was, even mid-word. It also lives in Format ▸ Paragraph Style and the command palette. (A reader’s ask: “Don’t want to go to the mouse.”)
- A cursor you can actually find. Settings ▸ Editing now has Cursor thickness and Cursor colour: choose Medium, Bold, or Extra bold and the text cursor becomes a solid bar in the colour of your choice — easy to spot on a busy page, still blinking, still exactly where you type. Native thin remains the default. (Also a reader’s ask: “It is too thin and I can’t find it sometimes.”)
- ⌥⌘O hops between the editor and the split pane — and now the pane really listens. Focus Split Pane / Editor previously landed focus on the pane’s frame, so the arrow keys did nothing; now it lands on the reading surface itself — arrows, space, and page keys scroll the book or page — and a quiet ring shows which side owns your keyboard.
- MojoPad updates itself now. No more trip to the website, no DMG, no dragging to Applications: when an update is out, click Update Now and the new version downloads in the background while you keep working — verified, then a single question: Restart Now, or install quietly the next time you quit. (Straight from your feedback. This release is the last one you’ll install by hand.)
Also fixed:
- The thick cursor no longer strays onto the graph. With a bold cursor set (Settings ▸ Editing), leaving a page for the graph or search could leave a stray cursor bar floating at the top of that view. It now clears the moment you switch away and returns to your place when you come back. (Spotted by our reviewer — thank you.)
- The image-resize handle shows up on tall images. Drop a portrait photo and click it: the resize handle lives at the image’s bottom-right corner, which on a tall image sat below the visible area — so it looked like there was no handle at all (until a right-click size change shrank the image enough to bring the corner back on screen). The handle now stays within view no matter how tall the image, and scrolling keeps it pinned to the corner instead of hiding it. (Reported by a user — thank you.)
- The image-resize arrow points the right way. The little diagonal-arrows handle on an image’s corner drew its arrows along the wrong diagonal — now it runs top-left to bottom-right, the direction you actually drag. (Spotted by a reader — thank you.)
- Headings obey the heading settings — always. Text that carried its own font or size (a paste, a font picked mid-writing) kept that styling when turned into a heading, so two identical headings on one page could render in different fonts. Converting to a heading now sheds those leftovers, and existing pages heal themselves as you open them. Colour and highlights on headings are untouched — this is only about font and size, which belong to Settings ▸ Editing. (Reported by our reviewer — thank you.)
- The command palette remembers. ⇧⌘P now floats your three most recently used commands to the top, marked with a small ↺ — because the most common reason to open the palette is to run the same command you just ran. (A forum ask.)
- “On this day” can now be closed. The Journal’s recall card was the one thing at the top of today without a ✕ — the manual promised every card was dismissable, and now it is. Close it and it stays away for the rest of the day; tomorrow brings tomorrow’s memories.