G.Shit started when we were 14.

At the time, it wasn't a business, a company or even a serious plan. It was simply two friends obsessed with music and the idea of creating something of our own. One was diving into music production, while I was becoming increasingly interested in video, photography and visual storytelling.

Together, we created G.Shit: a small creative collective where sound and image could coexist under the same roof.

What started as a way to learn quickly became a playground for experimentation. While my co-founder focused on music production, I naturally gravitated towards the visual side of the project. I directed and edited music videos, designed artwork, developed visual concepts and gradually became responsible for much of the creative identity surrounding our work.

Over the years, G.Shit became the place where I developed most of my audiovisual and creative skills. Through collaborations, self-initiated projects and countless hours of experimentation, I learned by doing. Some days I was filming, others editing videos, designing covers, taking photographs or trying to understand how to communicate an idea more effectively through images.

As the project evolved, we built a small recording studio at home. It wasn't fancy, but it gave us complete creative freedom. We recorded songs, produced tracks, mixed and mastered music, collaborated with local artists and learned almost everything through trial and error.

Over time, G.Shit began to establish itself within Zaragoza's underground music scene. Not because we had resources, connections or a clear strategy, but because we genuinely cared about creating things that felt authentic.

What surprised us most was what happened next.

Through music, visuals, events and collaborations, people started connecting with what we were building. G.Shit slowly became more than a production project. It became a community.

People began showing up to events, supporting releases and engaging with the culture that was forming around the collective. At one point, we even started producing small clothing drops. We weren't trying to build a fashion brand, yet people genuinely wanted to wear something that represented what we stood for. What started as a simple experiment quickly grew into multiple sold-out runs, with production batches reaching well over a hundred garments.

Looking back, that experience taught me something that would stay with me long after the project ended.

People rarely connect with products alone.

They connect with stories, ideas and communities they want to belong to.

After several years, G.Shit naturally came to an end as our paths moved in different directions. My co-founder gradually stepped away from music production, while I continued exploring creative and entrepreneurial projects of my own.

The project never became a company in the traditional sense, but it became something far more valuable.

It taught me how to build from scratch, how to turn ideas into reality, and how creativity, storytelling and community can come together to create something people genuinely care about.

Many of the projects, collaborations and opportunities that came later can be traced back to those years.

G.Shit wasn't the biggest project I've worked on.

But it was where everything started.