My first instrument was a guitar. My second was a camera.

Marta as a little girl.

Hello Brave Souls!

I don't think I've ever told you this.

I graduated from the University of the Arts in 1991 with a BFA in Cinematography. Photography minor. The degree that was supposed to send me to Hollywood. And the whole time, what I mostly loved was designing soundtracks and sitting in rooms with musicians.

Mike (my husband of 31 years) was the first artist I recorded, for my senior film project. Turns out he was also the love of my life, which tells you something about how good my instincts were even when I couldn't explain them.

I had real chances to move to California. More than once. I kept saying no and staying in the Philadelphia scene, working with musicians, songwriters, poets, spoken word artists. People with something to say and a voice built to say it. I felt ashamed about that for a long time, like I'd let my degree collect dust. Now I think I was just following the thing I couldn't name yet.

The thing I'm still following.

My mom used to find me by myself, in my own world, singing and dancing. That little girl didn't need a plan. She just needed to be near the music.

I'm not sure what part I play in all of this, except maybe this: I listen deeply. That seems to be what gifted people need most, someone who listens well enough to find what's already there.

"Wonder" is waking up in me again. Something not fully formed yet, but real. A continuation of something I started before I had words for it.

I'm only beginning (again). And I'm okay with that.

If you're curious what this kind of work actually looks like, come find me here:

martareis.com/about


P.S. My first instrument was a guitar. My second one was a camera. Somewhere in between, I found my real work.

 
 

We have done it ourselves

Photo by Marta Reis

Hello Brave Souls!

I used to manage live conferences with up to 3,000 people in the room. Every morning, before anyone walked through the doors, our team would say a proverb out loud together; stating a general truth. A kind of declaration. It went something like this:

Go to the people. Start with what they know. Build on what they have. And of the best leaders, when their task is done, the people will remark: "We have done it ourselves."

I've thought about those lines a lot lately. It’s been years since I spoke them out loud. 20 years of words sitting in my throat. I finally said them out loud, alone, in an empty room. Just me and the whisper.

I don't know what I expected. A sign, maybe. Something to confirm I was ready.

What I got instead was silence. And then, somehow, that was enough.

The best idea I could hand you, even if it's genuinely good, can still backfire. Because if it's mine and not yours, you'll follow it for a while and then drop it. You'll feel like something's missing. You'll be right.

The systems, the frameworks, the strategies: they only stick when they grow out of your own process of discovering what you actually value and how you actually think. Otherwise you're just wearing someone else's clothes and wondering why nothing fits.

That's the whole reason I'm building D.E.E.P. Design, a new BraveSpace framework for creative process. Discover, explore, experiment, plan. In that order, starting with you.

If you want to know more about how I work and what that kind of deep listening looks like in practice, come read about it here.

martareis.com/about 

P.S. The proverb is ancient. I can't remember every word anymore. Some things you carry the shape of, not the exact text.

 
 

People do too much talking. Not enough listening.

Digital art by Marta Reis

Hello Brave Souls!

I spent years in the creativity space frustrated by something I couldn't quite name. Then I finally said it out loud.

People do too much talking. Not enough listening.

Not to their clients. To themselves.

Everyone's chasing the next framework, the next hack, the next thing that'll finally unlock the work. Meanwhile the answer they're looking for has been sitting inside them the whole time, waiting for someone patient enough to help them hear it.

I used to think my job was giving people better ideas.

It isn't.

Most people already have extraordinary ideas. What they don't have is someone capable of listening deeply enough to help them find what's already there.

That single shift changed everything about how I work.

It's also the entire foundation of Visionality.

Not another framework to bolt onto a broken process. A space built around one belief: you are not empty, and you don't need filling. You need REMEMBERING.

Healing comes first. Then listening. Then remembrance. Then the work that actually matters starts moving.

I send the occasional email when something's worth your time, and only then.

Comment "IN" if you want on that list.

Comment "OUT" if you'd rather just follow along here. Either way, no hard feelings, I just want to respect your inbox.

What's the idea you already have, that you're waiting for someone to help you hear?

 
 

What if you played for 100%?

Photo by Marta Reis

Hello Brave Souls!

He walked into our first session wanting one thing: a consistent 60% game.

Mark was a bridge player. Good one. He'd made peace with 60%. It felt realistic.

I asked him a different question.

"What if you played for 100%?"

He laughed. Told me there's no such thing as a 100% game in bridge. Too many variables. Too much luck.

I didn't argue with him. I just asked him to hold the idea anyway. Not chase it. Just hold it.

Days later, he and his partner played the best bridge of their lives.

They became world champions.

Here's what he told me after:

"I would have played for 60%, and been satisfied if I had even come close to that goal."

The game didn't change. He did.

That's the part people miss about this work. It was never about bridge. It's about the ceiling we quietly agree to live under, then mistake for reality.

Most people don't need a new strategy. They need someone willing to hold the impossible version of them until they can see it too.

That's what Visionality is built for.

Not more tactics. Not another framework promising a shortcut.

A space to remember what you already know is possible, and start acting like it's true.

I send the occasional email when something's genuinely worth your time, nothing more.

Comment "IN" if you want on that list.

Comment "OUT" if you'd rather just follow along here. Either way, no hard feelings, I just want your inbox to be a place you trust.

What ceiling have you quietly agreed to live under?

What's the vision you've been holding at 60%?