I find it fitting that my first fragment explains what House of Branco is, and why it was built. The house is a map of my mind. Each room, an obsession. Some are under renovation. Others haven’t been built yet. A few are just for storage. But others—others are meant for expression. To cultivate creativity. To shape a voice. But more importantly, to give perspective to the person I’m becoming.
Cultivating creativity is, and always has been, how I make sense of chaos—building, breaking, circling back. Over the years, I’ve wandered through different outlets: photography, video, audio, graphic design, and music. When I take a hiatus, it doesn’t take long before chaos knocks on my door and, well, I return to the urge to create something that you see but also feel. Something silent, yet it whispers in your ear. Something born out of imagination, yet becomes real. Something mine.
The difference this time is that I want to document it. To see how far I can push it, and if I can actually reach that elusive level where the work becomes art, not just output.
Shaping my voice is harder. It’s been a while since I felt the need to write—not to impress, just to get closer to whatever’s trying to speak inside me. What pushed me back to the page was a question from a child in a book… A few nights ago, I was reading Hidden Pictures by Jason Rekulak. In the book, a boy named Teddy, who’s in the “why” phase of childhood, asks:
“What happens when people die?”
“I mean, what happens to the person inside the body?”
“What happens when people die?”
“I mean, what happens to the person inside the body?”
That question hasn’t left me. It pulled me into the body-mind dilemma. Are we just a genie in a bottle? Are we two distinct things, mind and body, smashed together for the time being?
Why am I bringing this up? Because it’s part of why I built this house: to shape a voice. For the inner person—the me I don’t see in the mirror. The one who wants to be heard and has been quiet. But more than that, to give his voice power and refinement.
This is about my becoming.
Not a brand. Not a product. Just the process of turning inward and trying to translate what I find.
This space is for my own understanding and my own enjoyment. But if you’ve somehow found your way here, and this page gives you something—perspective, permission, creative spark, or even just presence—I’m glad.
Not a brand. Not a product. Just the process of turning inward and trying to translate what I find.
This space is for my own understanding and my own enjoyment. But if you’ve somehow found your way here, and this page gives you something—perspective, permission, creative spark, or even just presence—I’m glad.
P.S. This is a quiet house. Don’t slam the door. No solicitors.