A Year That Settled In

This year, it somehow became about being more honest with who I already am.

I put out a new album.

I worked closely with a few new artists.

I implemented a small daily routine.

That was the surface of it.

Some of the music I released began in Oslo, during last year's trip to Scandinavia. Finishing those tracks mattered. I wanted to mark that moment as an official part of the project.

"Skytek" was probably the most fun to make this year. It includes a vocal recording from my fiancée. She's not a singer in any traditional sense. The goal was simply to create something together. A memory. Her voice is transformed, pitched high, tuned and abstracted. You can't really recognise her anymore.

There's also a bit of my childhood in that track. When I was around 11 or 12, I used to listen to Scooter a lot. I had a custom CD my cousin made me. Those tracks had these intense, high-energy top melodies, often paired with very high-pitched female vocals. As a kid, I genuinely thought those voices were computer-generated. I didn't understand music. All I knew was how it made me feel. Somehow, that naive sense of wonder found its way back into this song.

Alongside the releases, I built a small daily routine. Nothing strict. Just a simple system.

I spent some time thinking it through, even doing a bit of research, because it bothered me how easily my attention would fragment, jumping between tasks, ideas and random thoughts.

The rule is simple: I always write my thoughts or tasks down, either in a notebook or a digital note. When I'm creating music, editing videos or working on visual ideas, I turn off Wi-Fi. When I'm studying, researching, developing the web app, using AI or learning Norwegian - which I've been taking more seriously since that Scandinavia trip - I turn it back on.

So far, the biggest change I've noticed is how I feel at the end of the day. I either worked or I consciously chose to rest: play something on my Switch, watch a good film or just do nothing. No more in-between, lost moments. I called this little experiment "Creative Monk Mode". I even wrote it down on a piece of paper, listing different creative states. Having something physical in front of me every day helps. It contrasts nicely with my otherwise very digital-prone life.

When the album came out, I briefly returned to social media. I posted a few times, then stepped away again. The difference wasn't my behaviour, but how much power I gave it.

I feel completely fine not using social media for long stretches of time. I honestly no longer feel the need to perform being an artist in order to exist as one. That pressure, the need to prove myself, is simply gone.

I create because I want to. Because I always have.

If this project never becomes mainstream, that's fine. It was never meant to be that. It's meant to be meaningful. A record of my journey. A snapshot of time passing.

So... 2025. I think this was the year something shifted permanently, yet quietly.

I stopped chasing the world's idea of who I should be and settled more deeply into my own life. I care more about time, health, love, silence and freedom than I do about public stages.

I still want to sustain myself through my work. I believe in sustainability - just not at the cost of compromising the project or myself.

And that was '25 in a nutshell.

P.S. Oh - I'm getting married in about 12 days. Next year hasn't even started yet and it's already sounding like a blast!

Thank you for reading "Inside The Mind Of An Artist".

Until next time,

Vítor