Every year I get into a habit of carefully laying out a plan.

"I will put myself out there by running an IG blog. I will work with 10 people on their brand strategy. I will lose weight by exercising daily."

Sailing through the boost of motivation and confidence, I have no doubt – of course, I will make it! But even if not everything works out, I will give it my best, won't I?

This is not a post about my goals or progress or anything like that. It's March – and I know I royally fucked the prime time of showing the world my ever-so-brilliant-and-ambitious plan, with lots of exclamation points that "I will make it, you just have to see it!"

No, today, 9 March 2025 is the time to tell myself to stop.

There's no milestone after which my selfies glow up and I get to launch a course on how I've made it. There's no deadline on raking up so much money my bragging attracts my best haters. There's not even a point in chasing that picture.

(I don't hate goals here. I do feel frustrated with the idea that we strive to look like we've got everything together, and if not – you must have a plan to fix it because let's spread positive vibes only.)

(It's rich coming from a person who professionally helped others look like they've got it together. I know, irony does love to chuckle from the side.)

So, how about creating the picture where we express ourselves, for the sole purpose of putting ourselves first?

Today, 9 March 2025, I'm writing here that things will change.

Since July 2024, quite a few things happened in my life. I felt like I had it together and made a plan for a fantastic service I dreamed of doing. I was slightly scared – okay, bollocks, I was incredibly scared to market it.

So I didn't.

Instead, while on vacation, I discovered bookbinding. It's a traditional craft (or art, or process) where one puts books together by sewing pages, building structural support for a book to last for years to come, and creates a cover. Needless to say, with my love for reading and designing, I got hooked into this hobby.

In August, my stepfather passed away. He led his life with so much joy. Always tinkering with ideas (and pranks), one minute thoughtful and another – taking the piss out of everything and everyone, and at all times with 0 filter to say what he thinks out loud.

Since then I've been supporting my mum in the UK and my dad in Ukraine, and I found solace in creating things with my hands. Bookbinding, sketching, and recently printmaking.

Branding was the last thing on my mind.

I never dared to pursue the life of art and creativity but perhaps, this is the year? I'm thankful that I don't need to fight to survive every month and I've got support to explore something that is not tied to immediate profit-making.

I've got ideas. I want to write and create – and I will.

This little blog will remain as it is, yet not much of entrepreneurship or branding or communications will be at its core. What it will be is my corner of work-in-progress, of what I think and read and create, and above all, reflect.

I'm venturing to express how I experience the world, and figuring things out as I go, no plans attached (for now).

Welcome to my love letter to curiosity.