I can't be put in a box. For good — and for bad.

People keep trying. It never holds. Something always wriggles out the side. Took me years to realize that's not a flaw to fix. It's the best thing about me.

I live a half-step ahead of the present. I catch the next thing while it's still a rumor — and then I get the best seat in the house: watching, grinning, while the rest of the world arrives where I've been standing for a while. Yes, that makes me a fish out of water. But I have a hunch where the river is going, and I'm rarely entirely wrong.

I'd rather have one real conversation than a hundred small ones — so I keep my circle close, and I don't apologize for it. But close isn't the same as few. I collect people. Some of my favorite ideas arrived because someone looked me in the eye and told me I was wrong.

Here's a part that surprises people. I help people. A lot of them, one at a time, for years — long before any of it had a name. Put me across from someone standing at their own edge and I'm exactly where I want to be. That's not generosity I'm performing. It's the work I'm best at.

CTLZ grew straight out of that. Years of conversations, settling into a method the way a trail appears after you've walked it enough. I didn't plan it. I built it because I'd already, quietly, become very good at it. And I hold it loosely — the day someone shows me a better one is a good day.

What I do, underneath everything, is simple — and I love it. I spot something on the horizon and I make it real before the world agrees it's there. Entrepreneurship, once — two books, in Brazil, when the word still sounded like a dare. Leadership, after that — a book about holding a room instead of gripping it.

My day job is reshaping a global public tech brand — proof that the slow, careful kind of change and the restless kind can live in the same week.

And now AI. Obviously now AI. Not the loud part — the race, the demos, the noise. That takes care of itself. I'm after the better question underneath: what this means for a person. How someone actually changes. How a company finds its footing instead of its fear. What it takes to stand fully human next to something this powerful — and lean all the way in.

So I build. With Bia, through a studio we call Happy Capybara. And lately I build with the thing itself — Claude, mostly. A thought that used to take a year now takes an afternoon. I build at the speed I think. Finally.

Some of that building is for the youngest among us. At Lemonade I teach kids to stay creative next to AI — because the fear of this belongs to adults, and so does the work of meeting it well.

People ask why. Why move, why keep starting things, why not settle. Because I have to know what's next. Not predict it — meet it. Better yet, help co-create it. Curiosity isn't a hobby for me. It's the engine, and it runs hot.

We moved to LA for exactly that — Brazil to California, running straight at the edge where the future gets built. Bia chose it with me. Nico grew up inside the choosing. The restlessness is mine. The adventure is ours.