Introduction [start here]

20/01/25

Sometimes thoughts don’t need structure or a specific purpose to carry meaning. They can be simple, raw, unfinished—all they need is to be written down. “Thoughts” is exactly that kind of space. A space where I can gather my reflections, away from the noise of social media.


If you’re an entrepreneur, my approach to design and way of thinking—combined with my work—might help you decide if I’m the right person to collaborate with, or even inspire you to rethink how thoughtful design can impact your business.


If you’re a designer like me, you’ll find my perspective on our industry, a glimpse into my work, and perhaps inspiration for your own explorations.


And if you’re here out of curiosity, my thoughts on life, philosophy, experiences, or notes from books and travels might give you something to pause and reflect on.


The content here is as varied as the moments in which I write it. Sometimes it stems from experiences, other times from the need to organize my thoughts. It doesn’t always have deeper meaning—but it’s always mine.


You won’t find a comments section here—this space has its own rhythm. But if something resonates with you, feel free to reach out—or share your perspective in your own digital space.

Between intentions, efforts and results

26/03/25

When I started redesigning my productivity system, I began to ask myself how it should actually work. One of the key questions was whether it should focus more on promoting intention, effort, or the end result itself.


Finding the answer turned out to be harder than I expected. The arguments on all sides made sense. The Stoics argue that intention is what matters most, because it’s the only thing we truly control. We don’t have full influence over outcomes—not even over whether we’ll be able to follow through with what we planned. External circumstances can easily get in the way. But our mindset and will (prohairesis) are fully ours.


Since I like Stoicism, it’s hard for me to disagree. But at the same time, I can’t ignore the fact that we live in a world obsessed with results. Advocates of the “only the outcome counts” mindset will say it’s better to act effectively than to mean well. For them, intentions and effort remain invisible until they produce something real. When you go to a doctor, you expect to get better—not just hear that they tried hard.


Somewhere between those extremes, you’ll find the existentialists. Intention matters to them too, but only if it’s followed by action—otherwise it’s just an illusion. Action reveals the truth. We often have noble intentions—to quit smoking, to start running—but end up doing very little. It’s not even about breaking records. It’s about the fact that we don’t take that first step at all.



I’m familiar with the different perspectives by now, so it’s time for some conclusions. What matters most? Well, I believe all three stages deserve equal attention. It’s not a ranking—it’s a cycle: intention gives meaning, action creates movement, the result shows whether it’s working—and feeds the next intention.

But... depending on the context, each part of that cycle might take on more or less weight.


For the individual, intention and the effort to follow through matter most. Getting overly fixated on outcomes can be destructive, because so much of the result depends on factors beyond our control. Realizing we don’t have full control over outcomes can actually be liberating. It helps us avoid unnecessary frustration.


Rewarding effort—not just results—reduces fear of failure, weakens perfectionism, and makes us more willing to try new things. And often, the greater the effort, the deeper the satisfaction. Would you really enjoy winning a race if you were the only one running?


Sometimes, results just aren’t within reach. Think of scientists—many of them died before they saw the results of what they’d dedicated their lives to. Or artists who were only recognized after their deaths. Would they have kept going if they measured value only by outcomes?


No effort is ever wasted—even when the result falls short. We often don’t realize that something we learned years ago ended up saving us from making a serious mistake later.


But the world sees the outcome of our intentions and actions. You can have good intentions and put in a ton of work—but if you don’t deliver, well… you don’t deliver. That’s how reality works, whether we like it or not.


You expect a doctor to heal you, not just to try hard. You expect a teammate to follow through, not just to mean well. You expect a product to work, not just to be made with passion.


In those contexts, results become the only shared language. Without them, it’s hard to build trust, credibility, or a sense of purpose in a team. After all, how do you tell the difference between responsibility and incompetence—if not by the outcome?



Context matters—sometimes intention is what counts, sometimes it’s the result, and sometimes it’s the action itself that tells you the most. But we can’t afford to fall into extremes and forget the other elements that complete the cycle.


That’s why my productivity system won’t be about “winning” a single round—it’ll be about playing the long, infinite game more wisely. A game where I want to act in alignment with myself, learn from what works (and what doesn’t), and return to the intention that gives direction. Not to be perfect—just to keep going. Better, more consciously, more on my own terms.

On Paradoxes

10/03/25

It’s nothing groundbreaking to say that the world is full of paradoxes. But I can’t ignore the fact that lately, I’ve been noticing them more and more.


There’s something fascinating about them. Paradoxes are situations, statements, or phenomena that at first glance contradict logic and common sense, yet often contain a hidden truth. Some are just interesting curiosities you can acknowledge and move on from, but others stay with you. They can turn your way of thinking upside down, make you notice patterns you hadn’t seen before, or simply leave you with the feeling that you know even less than you did before.


To put this into perspective, I’ve chosen three paradoxes—each in a different category: The Eye-Opening Paradox, The "I Know That I Know Nothing" Paradox and My Favorite Paradox.



### The Eye-Opening Paradox


Sometimes, change feels impossible—not because things are too difficult, but because they’re just good enough. Not perfect, but comfortable enough not to push yourself. Not perfect, but tolerable enough to avoid any real pressure.


And that’s the worst kind of situation. It doesn’t give you a reason to grow, to improve your life, or to take action. Here are a few examples from my own life:

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I knew something was off with my health, but it wasn’t bad enough to take immediate action. By the time I finally did, the consequences were much worse.

|

I spent years stuck in an average, unfulfilling job that didn’t help me grow. It wasn’t difficult or toxic, so I never felt an urgent need to leave. Just good enough to stay. Just bland enough to bring no real satisfaction.


When things are really bad, you act. But when things are just "okay," you settle into comfortable mediocrity. And that’s exactly what The Region-Beta Paradox describes. Ever since I learned about it, I keep wondering: how many things would I have changed if they had been just a little bit worse?



### The "I Know That I Know Nothing" Paradox


I came up with this category for paradoxes that generate more questions than answers. For me, The Meno Paradox fits into it perfectly.


In ancient Greece, Socrates had a conversation with Meno about virtue—what it is and whether it can be taught. At one point, Meno asked: "How can we search for a definition of something if we don’t know what it is? And if we already know it, why search at all?" If we don’t know what we don’t know, how can we ever learn anything?


Socrates had his answer—he believed that the human soul has always known the truth and only needs to remember it. But for me, this paradox reveals something else. It’s a reminder that I can never truly know how complete my knowledge is. That there are entire parts of reality I’m not even aware of. So maybe growth isn’t about collecting answers, but about recognizing the extent of our own ignorance.



### My Favorite Paradox


After this philosophical deep dive, it’s time for something more grounded. The Paradox of Simplicity is a great example of how things that seem easy are often the hardest to achieve.

In thinking, true wisdom isn’t about making things more complicated, but about simplifying them in the right way. And paradoxically, that’s not so simple. After all, what does it really mean to simplify something well?


If you strip things down too much, you take away something essential—functionality, depth, flexibility. It takes real discernment to keep what’s valuable and remove what’s truly unnecessary.


That’s why this paradox is my favorite. It’s everywhere—how we communicate, how we think, how we design things. And every time I come back to it, it reminds me that simplicity isn’t about removing complexity but about mastering it.



This definitely won’t be my last thought on paradoxes. And since I’ve already touched on design, maybe next time, I’ll explore paradoxes from that perspective.

Reflections on The Brutalist

03/02/25

When I watch a film or a series, I pay attention not only to the plot, script, visuals, acting, and music but also to its message and the life lessons or new perspectives it might offer. This time was no different.


László Tóth—the main character, inspired by the great modernist architects—is a man whose life has been shaped by war, loss, and exile. His work is more than just art; it is a way of confronting his past. He doesn’t shut out pain or try to erase it. Instead, he transforms it into something tangible—a structure that echoes the places where he was once imprisoned but with one crucial difference: space. High ceilings, light, air—architecture born from trauma, but instead of enclosing, it allows one to breathe. A symbol of freedom.


Personal experience can be a powerful creative force. Not every artist chooses to work this way. Some distance their work from their own history, separating life from creation. Others, like Tóth, can’t—or won’t—draw that line. And maybe that’s why his work carries so much weight.


But vision is one thing, and reality is another.


Tóth struggles not only with his own ambitions but also with the expectations of others. Creation is never a fully autonomous process. Every artist, designer, or architect eventually faces the question: how much can you stay true to yourself, and how much do you need to find common ground with your audience?


Vincent van Gogh remained true to his style until the end of his life but was only recognized posthumously. Staying completely faithful to your vision is a romantic ideal, but reality rarely allows for it.


If you design for people, sooner or later, you reach a point where you have to consider their needs. A bridge that leads nowhere is just a sculpture. A building that no one inhabits remains an abstraction. You can resist, fight for your ideas, but if you want your work to exist in the world, you have to find a way not just to speak but to be heard.


“No matter what others try to sell you, it is the destination, not the journey.” The film’s final words seem to challenge the popular philosophy that the journey matters more than the destination. They prompt a reconsideration: what is truly more important? The road or the result?


In art, design, and architecture, the final outcome is what others see. No one looks at how many iterations, trials, and failures led to it—what matters is what remains in the end. But if you focus only on the final result, it’s easy to miss everything else.


Maybe the outcome is for others, while the journey is for ourselves. We are the ones who experience the process, who learn, who struggle. It’s up to us to make the journey meaningful, but the world will only see the final work.


Perhaps it all depends on context. Perhaps it’s about balance. I don’t know. All I know is that after this film, I know even less.

Everything looks the same

27/01/25

As Alex Murrell observed, we are living in the “age of average"—interiors, architecture, cars, and even fashion or public spaces are starting to look the same. Homogenization touches nearly every aspect of our surroundings, creating a world filled with predictable forms and solutions.


This phenomenon is even more pronounced in the digital space, where copying has become almost effortless. Websites, logos, advertisements, posters, and Instagram photos all follow similar templates, trends, and algorithms. Uniformity here is not just evident, it’s dominant.


This isn’t a coincidence. It’s a result of mechanisms governing the modern world—the drive for optimization, simplification, and predictability, which on one hand bring certain benefits but on the other hand stifle creativity and diversity:

|

Companies optimize processes and costs, leaving little room for experimentation.
|
Customers want things that “work” rather than those that require time to be understood or appreciated.
|
The mass audience chooses what is safe and proven. Companies seeking to reach the mass audience chooses what is safe and proven.
|
Social media algorithms promote fleeting trends, favoring repetition over originality and long-term value.
|
Globalization unifies aesthetics to create a sense of comfort across cultures (e.g. every Starbucks looks familiar).
|
The push for fast, mass production encourages the use of ready-made solutions, minimizing time spent on creativity (e.g. easily accessible website or presentation templates).
|
People naturally gravitate towards familiar and predictable things because they’re easier to digest. Stepping outside the norm often carries the risk of dissatisfaction or rejection (e.g. the backlash against Jaguar’s rebranding).
|
Uncritical use of AI, which relies on existing data and lacks the ability to invent from scratch like humans do.
|
Both companies and clients often expect quick results, which leads to investments in solutions that guarantee immediate outcomes rather than those that build long-term value.


It would be naive to think we can reverse this trend on a global scale. The market and cultural mechanisms favoring homogenization will continue to reward "average." However, we can find opportunities within this landscape and consciously leverage the situation. I believe that both creatives and entrepreneurs can benefit from it.


Changing strategies requires courage and effort—stepping beyond easy, default options and accepting the risks of playing the long game. For creatives, this means experimenting and producing work that exceeds the expectations of a mass audience. For entrepreneurs, it involves investing in authentic solutions that differentiate their brand and build long-term value.


In the “age of average" the courage to break away from the norm becomes the most valuable asset—for those willing to seize it.

As Alex Murrell observed, we are living in the “age of average"—interiors, architecture, cars, and even fashion or public spaces are starting to look the same. Homogenization touches nearly every aspect of our surroundings, creating a world filled with predictable forms and solutions.


This phenomenon is even more pronounced in the digital space, where copying has become almost effortless. Websites, logos, advertisements, posters, and Instagram photos all follow similar templates, trends, and algorithms. Uniformity here is not just evident, it’s dominant.


This isn’t a coincidence. It’s a result of mechanisms governing the modern world—the drive for optimization, simplification, and predictability, which on one hand bring certain benefits but on the other hand stifle creativity and diversity:

|

Companies optimize processes and costs, leaving little room for experimentation.
|
Customers want things that “work” rather than those that require time to be understood or appreciated.
|
The mass audience chooses what is safe and proven. Companies seeking to reach the mass audience chooses what is safe and proven.
|
Social media algorithms promote fleeting trends, favoring repetition over originality and long-term value.
|
Globalization unifies aesthetics to create a sense of comfort across cultures (e.g. every Starbucks looks familiar).
|
The push for fast, mass production encourages the use of ready-made solutions, minimizing time spent on creativity (e.g. easily accessible website or presentation templates).
|
People naturally gravitate towards familiar and predictable things because they’re easier to digest. Stepping outside the norm often carries the risk of dissatisfaction or rejection (e.g. the backlash against Jaguar’s rebranding).
|
Uncritical use of AI, which relies on existing data and lacks the ability to invent from scratch like humans do.
|
Both companies and clients often expect quick results, which leads to investments in solutions that guarantee immediate outcomes rather than those that build long-term value.


It would be naive to think we can reverse this trend on a global scale. The market and cultural mechanisms favoring homogenization will continue to reward "average." However, we can find opportunities within this landscape and consciously leverage the situation. I believe that both creatives and entrepreneurs can benefit from it.


Changing strategies requires courage and effort—stepping beyond easy, default options and accepting the risks of playing the long game. For creatives, this means experimenting and producing work that exceeds the expectations of a mass audience. For entrepreneurs, it involves investing in authentic solutions that differentiate their brand and build long-term value.


In the “age of average" the courage to break away from the norm becomes the most valuable asset—for those willing to seize it.

As Alex Murrell observed, we are living in the “age of average"—interiors, architecture, cars, and even fashion or public spaces are starting to look the same. Homogenization touches nearly every aspect of our surroundings, creating a world filled with predictable forms and solutions.


This phenomenon is even more pronounced in the digital space, where copying has become almost effortless. Websites, logos, advertisements, posters, and Instagram photos all follow similar templates, trends, and algorithms. Uniformity here is not just evident, it’s dominant.


This isn’t a coincidence. It’s a result of mechanisms governing the modern world – the drive for optimization, simplification, and predictability, which on one hand bring certain benefits but on the other hand stifle creativity and diversity:

|

Companies optimize processes and costs, leaving little room for experimentation.
|
Customers want things that “work” rather than those that require time to be understood or appreciated.
|
The mass audience chooses what is safe and proven. Companies seeking to reach the mass audience chooses what is safe and proven.
|
Social media algorithms promote fleeting trends, favoring repetition over originality and long-term value.
|
Globalization unifies aesthetics to create a sense of comfort across cultures (e.g. every Starbucks looks familiar).
|
The push for fast, mass production encourages the use of ready-made solutions, minimizing time spent on creativity (e.g. easily accessible website or presentation templates).
|
People naturally gravitate towards familiar and predictable things because they’re easier to digest. Stepping outside the norm often carries the risk of dissatisfaction or rejection (e.g. the backlash against Jaguar’s rebranding).
|
Uncritical use of AI, which relies on existing data and lacks the ability to invent from scratch like humans do.
|
Both companies and clients often expect quick results, which leads to investments in solutions that guarantee immediate outcomes rather than those that build long-term value.


It would be naive to think we can reverse this trend on a global scale. The market and cultural mechanisms favoring homogenization will continue to reward "average." However, we can find opportunities within this landscape and consciously leverage the situation. I believe that both creatives and entrepreneurs can benefit from it.


Changing strategies requires courage and effort—stepping beyond easy, default options and accepting the risks of playing the long game. For creatives, this means experimenting and producing work that exceeds the expectations of a mass audience. For entrepreneurs, it involves investing in authentic solutions that differentiate their brand and build long-term value.


In the “age of average" the courage to break away from the norm becomes the most valuable asset—for those willing to seize it.

As Alex Murrell observed, we are living in the “age of average"—interiors, architecture, cars, and even fashion or public spaces are starting to look the same. Homogenization touches nearly every aspect of our surroundings, creating a world filled with predictable forms and solutions.


This phenomenon is even more pronounced in the digital space, where copying has become almost effortless. Websites, logos, advertisements, posters, and Instagram photos all follow similar templates, trends, and algorithms. Uniformity here is not just evident, it’s dominant.


This isn’t a coincidence. It’s a result of mechanisms governing the modern world—the drive for optimization, simplification, and predictability, which on one hand bring certain benefits but on the other hand stifle creativity and diversity:

|

Companies optimize processes and costs, leaving little room for experimentation.
|
Customers want things that “work” rather than those that require time to be understood or appreciated.
|
The mass audience chooses what is safe and proven. Companies seeking to reach the mass audience chooses what is safe and proven.
|
Social media algorithms promote fleeting trends, favoring repetition over originality and long-term value.
|
Globalization unifies aesthetics to create a sense of comfort across cultures (e.g. every Starbucks looks familiar).
|
The push for fast, mass production encourages the use of ready-made solutions, minimizing time spent on creativity (e.g. easily accessible website or presentation templates).
|
People naturally gravitate towards familiar and predictable things because they’re easier to digest. Stepping outside the norm often carries the risk of dissatisfaction or rejection (e.g. the backlash against Jaguar’s rebranding).
|
Uncritical use of AI, which relies on existing data and lacks the ability to invent from scratch like humans do.
|
Both companies and clients often expect quick results, which leads to investments in solutions that guarantee immediate outcomes rather than those that build long-term value.


It would be naive to think we can reverse this trend on a global scale. The market and cultural mechanisms favoring homogenization will continue to reward "average." However, we can find opportunities within this landscape and consciously leverage the situation. I believe that both creatives and entrepreneurs can benefit from it.


Changing strategies requires courage and effort—stepping beyond easy, default options and accepting the risks of playing the long game. For creatives, this means experimenting and producing work that exceeds the expectations of a mass audience. For entrepreneurs, it involves investing in authentic solutions that differentiate their brand and build long-term value.


In the “age of average" the courage to break away from the norm becomes the most valuable asset—for those willing to seize it.

As Alex Murrell observed, we are living in the “age of average"—interiors, architecture, cars, and even fashion or public spaces are starting to look the same. Homogenization touches nearly every aspect of our surroundings, creating a world filled with predictable forms and solutions.


This phenomenon is even more pronounced in the digital space, where copying has become almost effortless. Websites, logos, advertisements, posters, and Instagram photos all follow similar templates, trends, and algorithms. Uniformity here is not just evident, it’s dominant.


This isn’t a coincidence. It’s a result of mechanisms governing the modern world—the drive for optimization, simplification, and predictability, which on one hand bring certain benefits but on the other hand stifle creativity and diversity:

|

Companies optimize processes and costs, leaving little room for experimentation.
|
Customers want things that “work” rather than those that require time to be understood or appreciated.
|
The mass audience chooses what is safe and proven. Companies seeking to reach the mass audience chooses what is safe and proven.
|
Social media algorithms promote fleeting trends, favoring repetition over originality and long-term value.
|
Globalization unifies aesthetics to create a sense of comfort across cultures (e.g. every Starbucks looks familiar).
|
The push for fast, mass production encourages the use of ready-made solutions, minimizing time spent on creativity (e.g. easily accessible website or presentation templates).
|
People naturally gravitate towards familiar and predictable things because they’re easier to digest. Stepping outside the norm often carries the risk of dissatisfaction or rejection (e.g. the backlash against Jaguar’s rebranding).
|
Uncritical use of AI, which relies on existing data and lacks the ability to invent from scratch like humans do.
|
Both companies and clients often expect quick results, which leads to investments in solutions that guarantee immediate outcomes rather than those that build long-term value.


It would be naive to think we can reverse this trend on a global scale. The market and cultural mechanisms favoring homogenization will continue to reward "average." However, we can find opportunities within this landscape and consciously leverage the situation. I believe that both creatives and entrepreneurs can benefit from it.


Changing strategies requires courage and effort—stepping beyond easy, default options and accepting the risks of playing the long game. For creatives, this means experimenting and producing work that exceeds the expectations of a mass audience. For entrepreneurs, it involves investing in authentic solutions that differentiate their brand and build long-term value.


In the “age of average" the courage to break away from the norm becomes the most valuable asset—for those willing to seize it.

/Thoughts