Six months have already gone by since I started writing.

There comes a moment in life when you realize that if you don’t put yourself in motion, nothing changes.
I started the newsletter exactly because of that.
It wasn’t a brilliant strategic project or a creative obsession — it was an inner push saying, “man, just start already… you can adjust along the way.”

And now, six months later, I feel that this decision pulled me out of one of those invisible places where you think you’re moving forward, but you’re actually just spinning in the same spot.

Especially at a time like this, when the internet is flooded with information and gurus that, more often than not, don’t really take us anywhere.

The thesis that guided me without me even noticing

The idea was very simple: to create a space where I could think out loud about strategic documentary audiovisual work — honestly, without too much formality or fluff.

Just something to help me grow and push myself to study, while sharing along the way.
A place where content would be a consequence of my process, not a “kind of finished” product.
And the hardest part: being myself.

And honestly, writing like this has been almost therapeutic.
You see yourself in the text. Sometimes you don’t like what you see. Other times you’re surprised. And sometimes, AI corrects you.

Why this mattered so much

Starting something from scratch is very uncomfortable.
Even more so when it’s something new that you don’t feel fully capable of yet, and you throw it into the unforgiving universe of the internet.

They say something is working when the “haters” show up. Because the truth is, they’ve always existed.
No one does anything with the intention of failing.

It’s like walking into a room where nobody knows you and still having to speak.
And me — anyone who knows me knows I’m a man of few words, very reserved. Huge challenge.

In the first few days, fear kicks in:
“Will anyone read this?”
“Does this even make sense?”
“Am I exposing myself too much?”

Then you keep going… a bit shaky, a bit curious — and suddenly you realize you’re learning while you write.
That your repertoire grows because you need to look for new references.

Your perspective becomes less rigid because you’re forced to revisit your certainties.

And the funniest, most interesting part is when you share what you’re thinking, and people start sharing what they’re thinking too.
From that encounter, conversations are born that you wouldn’t have had otherwise — with new people, or with that old acquaintance who had been distant for a while.

The benefit I didn’t expect

One of the most striking things about these months was realizing that building your own base completely changes the relationship with those who follow you.

It’s different when someone comes to you because they want to follow you.
Because they choose to connect with what you’re building.
Because they see meaning in the way you see things.

This opened real doors — people from audiovisual, marketing, gastronomy, business owners, creatives. People who shared stories, doubts, compliments, criticism.
And all of this helped me better understand my own positioning.

The truth is, it’s not good to depend on platforms to publish and distribute your content — to depend on someone else’s algorithm.
That’s why having your own channels, with people who are genuinely interested in you, in what you think or do, makes so much sense.

I started out looking for consistency (even with flaws) and found people.

Wanting to write better, and I found a more demanding — and at the same time lighter — version of myself.
And knowing that you’re doing the best you can at that moment, with the intention and capacity you have.

The so-called “professional development” no one explains

This was, without a doubt, one of the things that impacted me the most.
Writing every week put me on a path of continuous evolution that I would never have reached if I had stayed only consuming content.

Producing forces you to organize thoughts, build arguments, test ideas.
It’s almost like a gym for the brain (with the advantage of not having to wake up at 6 a.m., like I do for Pilates…).

And it was within this cycle that I realized I’m getting closer to the professional I want to be.

Not finished. Not perfect. But aligned, aware, curious.
And surrounded by people who pull that curiosity upward.

From time to time I write that it’s incredibly valuable to be surrounded by extraordinary people and professionals — and that’s a privilege I truly have.

The truth is… I surprised myself

I thought it would be hard to keep the discipline.
And it was. Harder than an athlete’s career.

I thought it would be a challenge to always write something relevant.
It still is.
You need to stay attentive, perceptive, and listen to those who follow you.

But what I didn’t imagine is that this would give me so much clarity about my path within strategic documentary audiovisual work — and, above all, so much desire to keep going. Even with difficulties and limitations.

Six months later, I look back with that feeling of, “it seems like it’s working… and there’s still so much more to come.”

If you’re reading this now, maybe it’s time for you to start something you’ve been postponing.

And yes, I already told you this six months ago in my very first newsletter.
And yes, it’s December — so what?
It’s time to start.

You’ll wish you had started a few months from now, when that time has passed and won’t come back.

And if you’ve already started, tell me: what’s surprising you along the way?

A hot coffee and a present mind.
Renan.