Founder

The Story

Biography

I was born in a small coastal village in South America, where days and evenings were measured not by clocks but by the soft rumble of the village cinema coming to life. Long before I understood the mechanics of light or the threads of narrative, I knew magic. It lived in a narrow projection room above the audience—warm, humming, and filled with the scent of celluloid—and it belonged to my uncle, the village projectionist.

As a child, I spent countless hours perched on a tall wooden stool beside him, my small hands gripping its edges as I peered through the tiny square window cut into the wall. From that vantage point, I watched the white screen bloom with worlds far beyond my rural: cities I had never heard of, heroes who spoke in accents I didn’t know, and stories that rose and fell like the tides behind my home. The beam of light from the projector passed just inches above my head, and I came to believe that stories, like light, could travel forever if someone gave them direction.

Those nights etched themselves into my memory. While other children dreamed of the future, I dreamt of stories—of telling them, shaping them, sending them out into the world the way my uncle sent shimmering frames across the darkened cinema hall.

But life, as it often does, gently redirected my path. I discovered a talent for drawing buildings, for imagining spaces, for seeing possibility in form and structure. Design and Architecture offered a practical future and an artistic outlet, and I embraced it wholeheartedly. I built a life measured in grids, proportions, blueprints and elevations, not film reels. Yet, even in those years, I carried the projection room within me. Every floor plan was a narrative in disguise; every building a vessel for human stories.

Still, some part of me—the barefoot girl perched on a wooden stool—waited.

Now, in my later years, I returned to that girl. I finds myself once again listening for the soft whirl of the projector, the hush before a story begins. I stepped back into the world of storytelling, not as an observer peering through a small window, but as a creator ready to share my own voice and life experiences.

My journey has come full circle: from the flickering shadows of a small village cinema to the designs I crafted on paper and construction across decades, and now back to the heart of my earliest wonder. I carried with me a lifetime of experience, a deep love of narrative, and the enduring memory of a beam of light that once passed over my head and into my imagination.

I am writing again—shaping stories, honoring my origins, and finally giving life to the dreams of the little girl who watched the world through a tiny window in a projection room.