Manifesto

I, Kevin, founder, no longer want journeys that reveal themselves before they even begin.

Places already seen before setting foot there.

Memories pre-shaped. Predictable. Hollowed out.

 

I’m looking for something else.

Places without expectation.

Unscripted gestures.

Moments that weren’t staged.

Just lived.

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— • —

 

I chose Apoena.

A Tupi word.

It means: the one who sees further.

Not stronger. Not higher. Just… further than what we thought we were seeking.

 

— • —

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My partner is Brazilian.

I didn’t choose Brazil. It came to me.

 

I left not for Rio. Not Salvador.

Further north. Quieter.

 

Barra do Cunhaú.

A village south of Natal.

No welcome sign. Nothing for sale.

 

An old woman selling warm rolls.

A few coins. Not a word too many.

The bread was ordinary. The moment was not.

 

I fed hummingbirds.

Listened to the wind bend the dunes.

Wandered through Olinda without a map.

The carnival didn’t say where to go.

We just followed. It was enough.

 

— • —

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Back home in Brittany,

In north-west France,

I noticed the same quiet pulse.

 

A Wednesday morning, in Vannes, 

Place des Lices.

 

The market was slowly taking shape.

Crates laid straight on the stone.

Stalls unfolding over the still-cool pavement.

Timbered houses closing the square like an old theatre.

At the end, the Saint-Vincent gate opened into town.

People entered without thinking.

 

Buckets filled with bouquets.

Cheeses barely unwrapped.

A man leaning on a low wall, sipping coffee.

No one spoke loud.

But everything moved.

 

You could get lost for a while.

Or just stop.

And stay.

 

— • —

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I hadn’t left for this.

But by stepping away from what I knew, I began to see what was right there.

Not a backdrop. Not a tradition.

Just a way of being. Slower. More present.

 

Apoena was born of that.

Not to retrace the same path.

But to try to make others feel what I felt, coming home.

 

It’s modest.

But sometimes, that’s enough.