About Me

I started this page because I was tired of being legible only in professional contexts. The portfolio shows the work. This is the part underneath.

I'm a parallel processor.

I rarely think about one thing at a time. My best insights come from the collision between two fields that don't usually touch — sport science and feminist STS, residential architecture and biological data infrastructure, sound installation and patent law. When I'm moving between domains, I'm not scattered. I'm looking for the interference pattern. That's usually where the real inspo is.

I think by building.

Reading helps. Conversations help more. But I understand things most clearly when I make them: a company, a paper, a document, a physical object. Writing the Beyond Human Studio investment memo taught me more about the thesis than months of thinking did. Making the sound installation taught me something about my research that the research itself hadn't. The artifact is part of the cognition.

Writing is how I find out what I think, not how I report it.

I write in many forms — academic, literary, business, narrative — because each form asks different questions of the same material. The philosophy novel asked questions my research couldn't. The research paper asked questions the novel couldn't. I need multiple forms because I'm asking about something that doesn't have a single correct resolution.

My intuition is faster than my reasoning and usually right. I've learned to trust it selectively.

In sport, intuition is trained proprioception — the accumulated correction of thousands of repetitions. I think intellectual intuition works similarly: it's the residue of a lot of pattern recognition that hasn't been formalized yet. I've learned to take my intuitions seriously as hypotheses rather than dismissing them for lacking justification or following them without interrogation.

I have a high tolerance for ambiguity and a low tolerance for vagueness.

These are different things. Ambiguity is real: the world is genuinely uncertain and the right answer is often genuinely unclear. Vagueness is a choice: imprecise language, undefined terms, fuzzy commitments. I find ambiguity generative. I find vagueness a failure of effort. I am impatient with it in myself and in others. Things need to be precise.

I can learn almost anything, fast, and I'm not afraid of not knowing.

I read Victorian literature at 5. Not because anyone thought it was age-appropriate, because it was there and I was curious. That early experience of being inside something I didn't fully understand, and finding my way through it anyway, wired something I've relied on ever since. New fields don't intimidate me. Gaps in my knowledge feel like the interesting part, not the obstacle. The pattern recognition transfers. The methodology transfers. The willingness to be a beginner again, every time, is probably the highest-leverage thing I have. I can build you tunnel boring machines, multi-omic data sets, dresses… I am convinced I can learn pretty much anything.

The fear of failing has a limited supply. I exhausted mine early.

I am genuinely, structurally resilient — not as a personality trait I cultivated but as something that got built through repetition. I have been rejected by universities, investors, institutions, competitions, publishers, and most importantly people. I have built things that failed publicly. I have been told no in enough languages and contexts that the word lost most of its charge. The projects I've started that didn't work taught me more than the ones that did. I go into everything now with the full weight of that knowledge behind me — which means I go in faster, looser, and more willing to find out. Resilience isn't toughness. It's just accumulated evidence that you're still here.

I love being right. I love it so much I own a pair of socks that say 'I'm always right.' But I genuinely don't care about being wrong.

These are not contradictory. I care deeply about being right in the long run, about having correct models, accurate predictions, beliefs that survive contact with evidence. That's precisely why I don't protect wrong hypotheses. If I'm wrong about something and find out, I'm not losing — I'm getting closer to right.

A specific relationship with failure.

Not as metaphor — as data. When you fall off the board, you get back on and you diagnose: was it weight distribution, timing, wind read? There is no wallowing in high-performance sport because wallowing has no information value. I brought this directly into founding. I have failed and been rejected more times than I can even count, but by now I just don't care — I'd been trained to extract the lesson and move on.

An intimate knowledge of proximity to failure.

You can feel, in a competitive race or a heavy training session, the exact threshold between functional and broken. The body signals it. Most people learn to ignore those signals. Elite athletes learn to read them with precision. This is literally the subject of my peer-reviewed research. But it's also why I'm good at knowing when a company or a project is at that threshold, before it breaks.

The belief that the body is always running a more honest process than the mind.

When I was competing, my conscious assessment of my performance was almost always less accurate than my body's. The body knew when I was overtrained before I did. It knew when I was afraid. It knew when something was wrong with the equipment before I consciously registered it. I built AthleteIQ because I wanted to make that knowledge legible. I'm building Beyond Human Studio for the same reason at a different scale.

A high baseline tolerance for discomfort that I sometimes misapply.

This is the shadow side. I trained through injuries because the culture demanded it and because I couldn't distinguish productive discomfort from damage. I have an alar ligament injury and a history of a tibial fracture that are both, at least partially, products of this. The same threshold that makes me good at hard things makes me bad at knowing when to stop.

A hunger that doesn't switch off.

The competitive athlete's drive doesn't have a natural ceiling. You win a race and the question is immediately: what's the next race? I now build companies with this energy. I write books with it. I do research with it. The orientation toward the next thing, the next problem, the next threshold, is just how I'm constituted. I'm not sure I'd want to change it. But I understand now that it requires deliberate management, not just expression — the downside is an emptiness feeling when downtime or between projects.

The reason I include this section is that most people who find me through my work meet me as a founder or a researcher. The athlete is the earlier, stranger, more essential layer.

The body is the primary epistemological instrument, not the output.

Most health and performance systems treat the body as a thing to be optimized — inputs in, metrics out. I think the body is the starting point for knowledge production: the most sophisticated sensor we have access to, and the most systematically underread. My work consistently begins here. The data is downstream. The goal should never be to biohack.

Proximity to failure contains more information than stable function.

The moments just before things break — muscles, relationships, companies, measurement systems — are where the most interesting signals live. Stable systems are legible. Threshold states reveal structure. I am drawn to edges not for drama but for information density.

Categories protect mediocrity.

Disciplines are administrative conveniences that became identity constraints. The interesting problems, and the interesting people, don't fit inside them. The pressure to specialize is real but it's a pressure that serves institutions, not the people choosing. I refused it early and paid some social costs for it — the typical not being enough of one too much of the other. I don't regret it.

Most biological data is correlational when it urgently needs to be causal.

The reason we're not learning what we should from all the data being generated about human bodies is structural: datasets are cross-sectional, retrospective, hopelessly confounded by lifestyle variables, and collected from sick populations rather than longitudinal healthy ones. Beyond Human Studio is my attempt to build infrastructure that makes genuinely causal biological knowledge possible. This is the founding thesis and also a scientific conviction.

Embodied knowledge is legitimate knowledge — not a softer kind, a different kind.

The Haraway / Barad thread in my thinking: knowing something through years of physical practice, through chronic pain, through the proprioceptive accumulation of training — this is a form of knowledge production, not an anecdote to be corrected by 'real' data. This led me to believe and understand my athletic background isn't decoration on my research. It's method.

Speed is a form of rigor, not its opposite.

I've sold a company in 10 weeks. The process was rigorous. What makes something slow is usually not complexity — it's political friction, unclear ownership, or the inherited belief that slow equals careful. Careful is a quality of attention, not duration.

Founders don't describe reality. They design it and then make it true.

My current research is on this: the investment memo, the pitch deck, the executive summary are not representations of existing companies — they're ontological claims, designed artifacts that perform the future into fundability. I find this simultaneously the most exciting and the most ethically loaded thing about starting companies. You are always, partly, making the future up. The question is whether the thing you're making up is true enough to survive contact with the real harsh world.

The pressure to be one thing is mostly felt by people who could be many.

I include this as a belief rather than a personal note because I think it generalizes. The people I've met who feel most anxious about 'having a niche' or 'picking a lane' are often the ones with the widest genuine range. The anxiety is the signal, not the problem. It should be more embraced.

Rest is a practice, not a reward.

I'm still learning this. I include it as a belief because I think it's true even when I fail to practice it. The body has a recovery architecture. Ignoring it is not toughness. It's just slower damage. It's been a process — grew up with military-grade training that shamed the rest, trying to unlearn here.

On how we will live

Within 30 years, the majority of single adults in dense cities will sleep in pods — not as poverty, as preference. Privacy is already disaggregating from space; the bedroom is the last thing to go. Ownership of physical space will become a minority position before 2060 — not just because people can't afford it, but because the shared economy will make the friction of owning a fixed location legible as a constraint, not a status symbol. The nuclear family as a living unit is already functionally obsolete for most people under 35; what's replacing it isn't loneliness, it's intentional residential community — just as it was 9,000 years ago, the social communities like Çatalhöyük in Anatolia will be coming back, but instrumentalized and designed. Most people will have a second 'biological home' — a place optimized for sleep, recovery, and measurement that is separate from where they socialize and work. Smell will become a primary design material in architecture within a generation. Not as luxury, as functional environment.

On education

Schools will lose their signaling monopoly within 20 years and it will be faster and more violent than anyone in the institution is currently modeling. The most dangerous thing about formal education is not what it fails to teach — it's the self-concept it installs. Starting university at 13 taught me that the pacing of formal education is designed around the slowest acceptable rate of progress, not the fastest possible one. The homeschooled and unschooled cohort will produce a disproportionate share of the next generation's most important companies, artworks, and scientific contributions — and we won't be able to track this statistically because the data infrastructure doesn't exist to see it. Grades measure compliance and performance under known constraints. Within 15 years, AI tutors will produce better learning outcomes than the median teacher for most subjects. The real function of elite universities is curated peer selection, not education for a career. Art history is one of the highest-ROI educations available and almost nobody knows this. Physical education in schools is pedagogically backwards — we teach children the rules of sports before we teach them proprioception, body literacy, or how to read their own physical signals. Homeschooled and unschooled kids develop the strongest and most valuable socializing skills, vertically across age groups rather than horizontally with peers.

On art and creativity

The contemporary art market is one of the most effective money laundering and tax optimization systems ever constructed, and the art inside it is mostly incidental to that function. The two will eventually decouple, and the art that survives the decoupling will be the only kind worth making. AI will not kill artistic authorship. It will kill artistic credentialism — the idea that difficulty of production confers value. The most important art being made right now is being made by people who don't fully identify as artists. Craft is making a comeback not as nostalgia but as epistemology — people are returning to making physical things with their hands because it's the only activity left that generates knowledge you can't get from a screen. The next major aesthetic movement will emerge from biotech, not from art schools.

On bodies, biology, and medicine

The medical system is optimized to treat acute disease in sick populations. It has almost no infrastructure for studying health in healthy people over time. This means we know almost nothing about what optimal human function looks like — we only know what pathology looks like. Biological age testing will be routine in hiring, insurance, and romantic partner selection within 20 years. The ethical debates will lag the adoption by a decade. We are about to discover that a significant percentage of 'mental health' diagnoses in the last 30 years were downstream of undetected physiological conditions — thyroid dysfunction, chronic inflammation, sleep architecture disruption. The psychiatric and biological literatures will eventually merge and it will be embarrassing for psychiatry. Pain science is 20 years behind where it should be because chronic pain disproportionately affects women and was systematically dismissed as psychosomatic.

On sport and performance

The Olympics will add esports before they add proper windsurfing back (not foil, windsurf). This will tell you something true and devastating about what we now mean by 'sport'. Chess is not a sport. Will never be. Within a generation, genetic performance profiling will be standard in youth sport selection — parents will choose sports for children based on myosin fiber composition and VO2 max ceiling before the child has touched a ball. The ethics of this will be genuinely complicated.

Build the infrastructure that makes causal human biology possible.

Not a study. Not a dataset. A permanent operating system for how we learn about the body — longitudinal, controlled, naturalistic, and built into the way people actually live. The kind of thing that, in 50 years, people will point to as the moment the evidence base for medicine changed. I want to build the thing that makes that possible, not the paper that describes why it's needed.

Prove that the most rigorous scientific environment can also be the most beautiful place to live.

This is the hardest design problem I know of. Instrumentation tends to feel clinical. Comfort tends to feel uncontrolled. I want to build a residential environment that is genuinely, architecturally, experientially extraordinary, and simultaneously produces the most scientifically valid longitudinal human data ever collected. Not a compromise between the two. Both, fully, at once.

Write the book that doesn't have a category yet.

Not the philosophy novel, though I'm proud of that one. The next book. The one at the intersection of measurement theory, feminist epistemology, embodied athletic knowledge, and what it means to make a life into data. I know the territory. I don't know the form. I think it will need to invent one. Don't have the time for it right now.

Compete again at a level that scares me.

Yes I got injured, yes I retired from sport some time ago, but I know it's not finished — the competitive identity didn't retire, it just went underground. At some point it needs a race again. I'm particularly attracted to sports which require crazy endurance under extreme conditions; that's why windsurfing was ideal. I think now I'm going toward the snow, and have as a goal to go to the winter Olympics one day.

Have a body that doesn't hurt.

I know it isn't a project. It doesn't have a roadmap. It's a wish, kinda — but because leaving it out would make everything else on this page a worthless performance. It has been years living with chronic pain, every single day, the accumulated cost of training a body past what it wanted to give. I'm managing all of it quite ok, I'm able to live a more or less normal life with a few exceptions. Management is not the same as resolution. I want a resolution. I'm including this so I don't forget that wanting it is allowed.

I move faster than the people around me and rarely slow down to narrate the journey.

I change direction the moment a better one becomes visible. This is a strength in founding contexts. It's disorienting to everyone else.

I intellectualize pain instead of feeling it.

When something is hard — physically, emotionally, relationally — my first instinct is to make it into a research question. The alar ligament injury is the clearest example: I spent months reading papers on upper cervical neurology while not resting. There's a version of this that's genuinely useful. There's a version that's armor. I still confuse them.

I can, and will, judge people in the first 30 seconds based on intuition.

I process people quickly and I notice a lot — inconsistencies, the gap between what someone says and what they do, the places where a story doesn't quite hold, the eyebrow gestures. I find this interesting, not damning. But I've been told it reads as evaluation. I'm working on making my attention feel warmer.

I am good at physical repetition, I am bad at mental repetition.

High IQ + ADHD is a killer combo, often good, often bad. Once I understand something, I find it very hard to keep doing it. I have dropped things if they are not interesting enough despite working great. I need to be challenged every day. I haven't always been honest enough with myself about that dependency.

My relationship with rest is still broken.

I'm relearning this one in real time. Professional sport wired rest as tactical recovery — a tool, not a state. I am trying to find out what rest is when it doesn't serve a performance goal. It's stranger than I expected.

I make things seem light and easy — it's not a good thing.

I have been told I make achievements, things, or projects look so simple — more than what they actually are. Moving on first principles has been my first principle, combined with often delusion I ended up achieving crazy shit, which carries a lot of effort, discipline and sacrifice. I get annoyed when people think it's easy and don't see all the sacrifice.

I am very impatient and have low tolerance to noise, light, and motion.

I have very little patience because I feel everything around me move so slow — it is probably not true but it feels like it. One of the disadvantages of being neurodivergent is that I can't handle very loud environments, or little repetitive sounds (I hate, but really hate, when people crack their fingers), get motion sick even watching movies, and get migraines for any reason.

Age 13 — Enrolled in university.

Fine arts at INBA, Mexico City. Homeschooled until then. The pacing of school had never matched, so I was homeschooled until uni. Was the youngest person in every room I entered for the next several years. This taught me that age is a social construct until it suddenly isn't.

Age 14 — Joined the Mexican national windsurfing team and became national champion.

The first time I understood that the body can be trained to do things the mind considers impossible. Also the first time I understood what it costs.

Age 15 — Won national art competitions, became a model, joined MENSA.

I know it sounds like a weird mix, but yeah — I learnt a lot about public speaking, makeup, and wearing heels without falling. Plot twist: ended up being state queen and in the top 10 in Mexico Miss Teen beauty pageant. When joining MENSA, the high IQ society, I felt for the first time it was a place where I fit in. Really grateful about it.

Age 16 — Gave a TEDx talk about education.

About alternative education and homeschooling. I had no credentials to say this. I had very clear opinions. Both things were true simultaneously. This had a very big impact on LATAM alternative education — I started receiving hundreds of messages from homeschooling families every week, got cited in pedagogy books and even a few master's theses of people I never met.

Age 17 — Top 5 in North America. Top 50 worldwide.

This is when I understood what a body at its absolute limit actually feels like — not metaphorically, physiologically. The specific texture of that threshold is still the reference point I use for everything. The Olympic qualifier. Then the injury happened. I spent a long time making it into a research question instead of a loss. Eventually I let it be both.

Age 19 — Won several international hackathons, including the Vodafone Hack.

First contact with building things that weren't athletic or artistic. Discovered that the same pattern recognition I used in competition worked in technical problem spaces. That was a useful thing to find out.

Age 20 — Built a 22-ton tunnel boring machine and won Elon Musk's Not-a-Boring Competition.

Student team. 400+ universities competing. $1M raised. The machine is now in the Deutsches Museum. What I actually learned: that a well-constructed narrative is load-bearing infrastructure, not decoration. The story we told about the machine was as important as the machine.

Age 21 — Founded my first company and scaled it to retail in 19 countries.

Amazonia Spirits — alcohol-free gin built on a molecular isolation process that actually produced the sensation, not just the flavor. Kickstarter to 19 markets in under two years. Then sold the recipe and moved on. The lesson: know when you've answered the question. The question was whether it was possible. Once it was, I was done and time to move on.

Age 22 — Professor title from the University of Salamanca.

Guest lectured at UC Berkeley, Imperial College, TUM, Google London, universities across America, Europe, and Asia, on Design Thinking and Sports Tech. Spoke in front of 7,000+ people across various stages. The strange thing about teaching is that it clarifies what you actually believe, separate from what you think you believe.

Age 23 — Entrepreneur First / Founders Inc. Built AthleteIQ.

Moved to London, then SF, took part in incubators and built AthleteIQ — an EMG-based wearable for injury prevention in athletes. Was the first company I built from the original question rather than from an opportunity I spotted. Kinda wanted to answer my own problem. The injury that ended my Olympic qualifier turned into a research methodology. Patents filed. We worked with pretty cool athletes and I learnt a lot about manufacturing.

Age 24 — Sigma Squared fellow. Eurotech fellow. Studied anthropology. Published my first book.

The Library of the Eternal Return — Thalia Top 100 Young Storytellers, Germany. A philosophy novel I wrote during the time in planes (I went to 60+ countries). I enrolled back in uni to study anthropology this time because I find it interesting.

Age 25 — SuperAdmin AI, the residency, South Park Commons, published bio-mechanics research, Beyond Human Studio.

I built, scaled and sold an AI agent for property management in 10 weeks solo. Took part of cool programs, and then went into building the company that is closest to the original question — the most meaningful and hardest problem I have ever asked myself, working on Bio-AI data infrastructure.

Still building. Still not finished.

Donna Haraway — Cyborg Manifesto

Taught me about the relationship between human and machine.

Karen Barad — Meeting the Universe Halfway

The first time I found a philosophical framework that matched what I already believed about measurement: that the act of measuring is not neutral, it is constitutive. The instrument and the phenomenon are entangled. My entire research practice changed after this.

Georges Canguilhem — The Normal and the Pathological

Where I learned that 'normal' is a political category, not a biological one, and that health is not the absence of pathology but the capacity to establish new norms. Changed how I think about the body, data, and what Beyond Human Studio is actually building.

Oscar Wilde — The Portrait of Dorian Gray

My all-time favourite. I read this in 4 languages, I read it from the end to the start backward, I read it more than 39 times. The first reading had still changed me — shaped my perception of art, beauty, and self.

I can read Classic Maya glyphs. Not fluently. Enough to stand in front of a stela and know what it's saying.

I used to have a cupcake business as a kid — did more than 400 cupcakes daily, full-on operations at 12 years old. Made some cash, learnt a lot, got exhausted.

I spoke in front of 7,000+ people before I was 25. The nervousness doesn't disappear. You just stop trying to make it.

At 15 I was winning national art competitions and national windsurfing championships simultaneously. Neither world knew about the other. I have always lived this way.

I volunteered every Monday morning in a communal eatery between 10–18 years old.

I filed patents in nanotechnology, electromyography, and closed-loop environments.

I built a financial model for a luxury residential development in the Bahamas. It was a very good model. Nothing was built yet — probably going back to it in the future.

I have been finalist in architecture competitions despite not being an architect.

I researched abandoned Japanese farmhouses — akiya — as ski bases. I have not done this yet. The folder is still open.

I designed a biotech incubator in the Bahamas. Also didn't happen. I kept the research anyway.

My biological age tested at 18 when I was 25.

I built an automated pipeline generating Spanish-language football articles at scale to even out female soccer articles on search engines.

I spent weeks inside California housing law trying to find which regulatory category a biometric residential environment falls into. The answer is under group housing.

I went through a period of reading exclusively about the philosophy of time — Bergson, McTaggart, Barbour's timeless physics. I emerged with no conclusions and a significantly altered relationship to deadlines.

I know more about the structural mechanics of tunnel boring than any artist I've met, and more about contemporary art theory than any engineer I've met. It's weird.

I find blood panels genuinely exciting in the way other people find sports results exciting. I have accepted this about myself and I do them once every 2 months.

This page will keep changing. I'm not finished. Wanna talk about it? Write me a message. I'll try to answer.