Some years don’t start in January.
They start when something, quietly, shifts inside.

2025 was one of those years.

It didn’t begin with clarity, or with a clear idea of what was coming. It began with noise. With tiredness. With the feeling of still being in the “before”.

The first months were chaotic.
More questions than answers. More intuition than certainty.

When do you decide to truly dedicate your time to something?
When does it stop being an idea that runs alongside everything else and become the centre?

March was a turning point.
Not because everything was solved, but because things started to make sense.

It was the moment we stopped asking if and started asking how.
The moment we understood that dedication doesn’t come after the result, but before it.

That’s when the now began.

With spring came the first real materialisation of the year.
A campaign that brought together months of decisions, trial and error, and learning by doing.

When does a project stop being fragile?
Or maybe it never does, and that’s exactly what keeps it alive.

The year ended with something that wasn’t part of the original plan, but changed everything: a studio at home.
A space of our own. A place to work, create and come together. Where ideas don’t have to wait for the perfect moment.

2025 wasn’t a year of big announcements.
It was a year of quiet decisions.
Of staying.
Of choosing, deliberately, where to place our time.

And perhaps that’s the most important thing we take with us:
understanding that building something of your own is, above all, a matter of time.

None of this would make sense without those on the other side.
Those who read, come closer, accompany and trust, even when the process is still taking shape.
Thank you for being here, for looking with time, and for being part of this moment.