Growing up, I wanted to be a hacker, an architect, a designer, an artist, and even a philosopher.
Now, I feel like I get to be all of those things.
A hacker for solving problems, as I child, I painfully tried to understand computers and code, and thought I’d never would have a talent for it. I was picturing myself in the dark, in front of a screen, doing “things”. Little did I know that it’s how I would spend the next two decades of my life. Today, I finally get what it is about. The perception of a truth beyond the manifestation of technology, as we all heard before, indistinguishable from magic.
An architect, for it’s expression in the real world, a love for the tangible shapes in spaces, and how they lead our actions, our behaviors, and even dictate our identity. I remembered my art history lesson very well, “Architecture is the mother of all art”. Our environment is our first interface as human, in our human-made world, everything is engineered to our benefits, or to lead our actions, even to control them. Walls and locks can become our prisons, furnitures can become our bed and places of rest, and roofs can become our shelters
A designer for the love of form, and utility. That subtle difference that ease the process, and even create an experience. The depth of design requires a kind of engineering, one perfom between common sense and “thinking out of the box”. The process of design is a very subconscious process, rooted in very logical choices. Navigating it can be a painful project as you operate in the dark. Once the light shed on something, it is as it can never be unseen again. Learning this process is what keeps me motivated to explore more.
An artist, for having a kind of sensitivity to the world, the kind that shake your soul, striking impressions, indelebible marks of expression from the other, the ones artists feed from one another. The currency comes from the validation of others, or from an elite groups of indivdual who would decide what makes or break an artist. What a stupid way of deciding what is striking to the soul, although curation can reveal the stiffen voices of this world.
A philosopher, for the understanding, for the uncovering of a truth hidden, something deeper inside us we can never quite put our finger on, but will always be there none the less. For the study of great women and men before us who led the path to share, fight, and preach, for their belief and their right to think as free individuals. Now, what does those discipline have in common? Perhaps they refer to the illusion of an idea. One that can be led through unconscious decisions.
The narratives of an identity that resonate as a burning desires to the wannabes, joining an elite group of those kinds always fascinated me and flattered my ego. Although I certainly escaped in fantasy, there was always something leading me towards those research. A sort of Hermite, looking for the right treasure to seek and find and give back to the world. A constant influx of overthinking, emergence, sprinkled by manic breakthroughs, breakdowns, fantasies, euphoria, enlightment and despair. Nightmares, dreams, some becoming real, both of them unfortunately, always to come back on the way to flow. Like a dance, a music, many melodies and rythm.
The magic always happens at the intersections, this is where you start to make things differently. To be different, you need to be on the edge of things, a pretty risky thing. The edges are sharp and not very permeable, it’s easy to slip and get out and be forgotten, and it’s hard to get in again. The
Yet it all leads to a very logical conclusion, perhaps made unconsciously. Innovation happens at the intersections, and the collisions of edges. Sometime, as an elegant manifestations and sometime, as the illusions of a correlation. Here comes the difficulty of thinking: discerning and thinking accurately. An idea goes only as far as it’s execution, everything else is just a dream, in a dark ocean of thoughts that will never see the light of day.
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