Before I Leave
A small rebellion against the life I repeat without noticing.
A living experiment · 2026
I’m learning a language, following the water, meeting new people, and exploring a life I can’t fully see yet.
Begin↓follow what moves you →
The question
I don’t know exactly where I’m going. For once, that is not a problem to solve—it is a place to begin.
This is a record of choosing curiosity over certainty: learning Spanish for conversations, filming ordinary days, and testing whether another rhythm of life is possible.
No perfect plan. No polished transformation. Just honest field notes from the space between the familiar shore and the next one.
What if uncertainty is an invitation?
Proof of life
A doorway, a steaming breakfast, a pause beside the window. Not a moodboard—just ordinary evidence that I am already moving.

Notes from in between
Stories, small experiments, useful phrases, and proof that a life can change quietly.
A small rebellion against the life I repeat without noticing.
Not perfect Spanish. Just enough courage for one real conversation. Aquí, despacito, también es avanzar.
Small crossings through cities, and the ordinary lives that make them breathe.
Finding a place through its markets, tables, and generous vegetables.
Chapter 01 · Daily notes
Some days it feels as if my life could never change.
So I am filming the ordinary days before it does—the small choices, repeated hours, and quiet beginnings that might already be carrying me somewhere new.
The same desk, the same hours. I wonder whether wanting something different is already the first movement.
The routine repeats. Then I choose tea—suave, tranquilo—and remember that a life can begin changing through one small choice.

Another working day, with a small pause to breathe. The city keeps moving outside the window; for one moment, I do not.
Typhoon White Dolphin turns the city to rain. I wonder if the storm can rinse a little restlessness from a soul still looking for rest.
Testing the waters
three shores, no promises
Long light, market vegetables, and one small Spanish sentence you are brave enough to try.
For a soft first landing ↗
02Neighbourhood tables, gallery afternoons, and the kind of conversation that makes you stay out a little longer.
For creative detours ↗
03A slower coast, warm evening walks, and room to notice what feels lighter when no one is asking you to hurry.
For beginning again by the sea ↗
Phrase to carry
“Estoy aprendiendo. ¿Podemos hablar despacio?”
I’m learning. Can we speak slowly?
USEFULA shared shoreline
What small possibility are you carrying today? Leave a wish, a phrase, or a brave little yes. In return, receive one from someone else.
0 small possibilities have reached this shore.
Notes already drifting
The water is waiting for its first note.
A note from the water
Occasional field notes about Spain, language, vegetarian tables, strangers, vlogs, and becoming curious again.
Write to me ↗The real address will arrive with the first chapter.