I promised I'll write some updates, so here's the update: for now, we've seized all the rebuilding operations, and both my business partner and I took an indefinite hiatus from ThinkPink.

We've spent the whole summer chasing the "rebuilding" game. Little did we know that the most challenging thing would be not the bureaucracy – Israel is tough for expats' businesses but ultimately solvable – but rather our internal debates about the financial side of keeping the studio running. Particularly the ever-present question for most service-oriented companies: how should we price our work with this thesis in mind.

After some research, we proceeded with a subscription-based model around three different tiers of services. And at this exact moment - as I sat down to calculate unit economics - I started to feel disappointed with this whole endeavor. When I looked at our half-baked spreadsheet, all I saw was a Sisyphean load full of wrong ideas. In our neverending quest to turn an artistic vision from 5 years ago into a valid business, we bumped into the brutal realities of the current market for creative studios. With the sufficient lack of outside investments early on, our model doesn't make any sense in the long-term survival of the studio.

In some way, that was a predictable path. All of us burned out. Myself included. My partner and I have dreamed about catapulting ThinkPink onto the market since 2018. After many attempts (which I've highlighted here), no matter how consistent and mentally strong you are, it's: a) impossible to keep going without even a tiny win; b) the moment comes when you need to face reality and accept it to prevent the further drowning.

And now, with our final journey to relaunch the studio with some mid-level results after a few months of work (a couple of landings to test and an incomplete financial model), I no longer feel any desire to keep going. It's finally time for me to wipe out this story and recharge with another project that answers my internal goals and vision for the future.

I don't want to keep this thing going if I no longer believe in success – and moreover, I stopped finding inspiration in any attempt at building the "creative studio of my dreams." I'm no longer the person I was in 2018, yet I'm still trying to push down the vision and ideas about the world that I had five years ago.

One might ask, why did you write that damn thing back in July. I genuinely believe in the concept itself, but this is not what I want to spend all my time chasing for the next few years. Building a creative studio does not feel relevant to me anymore. And it's okay. It's better to say "stop" now rather than later.

What now? I have to find out, to be honest. I now find immense joy in coding, AI acceleration, and science. Life is too short not to chase the things that inspire you.

I promised I'll write some updates, so here's the update: for now, we've seized all the rebuilding operations, and both my business partner and I took an indefinite hiatus from ThinkPink.

We've spent the whole summer chasing the "rebuilding" game. Little did we know that the most challenging thing would be not the bureaucracy – Israel is tough for expats' businesses but ultimately solvable – but rather our internal debates about the financial side of keeping the studio running. Particularly the ever-present question for most service-oriented companies: how should we price our work with this thesis in mind.

After some research, we proceeded with a subscription-based model around three different tiers of services. And at this exact moment - as I sat down to calculate unit economics - I started to feel disappointed with this whole endeavor. When I looked at our half-baked spreadsheet, all I saw was a Sisyphean load full of wrong ideas. In our neverending quest to turn an artistic vision from 5 years ago into a valid business, we bumped into the brutal realities of the current market for creative studios. With the sufficient lack of outside investments early on, our model doesn't make any sense in the long-term survival of the studio.

In some way, that was a predictable path. All of us burned out. Myself included. My partner and I have dreamed about catapulting ThinkPink onto the market since 2018. After many attempts (which I've highlighted here), no matter how consistent and mentally strong you are, it's: a) impossible to keep going without even a tiny win; b) the moment comes when you need to face reality and accept it to prevent the further drowning.

And now, with our final journey to relaunch the studio with some mid-level results after a few months of work (a couple of landings to test and an incomplete financial model), I no longer feel any desire to keep going. It's finally time for me to wipe out this story and recharge with another project that answers my internal goals and vision for the future.

I don't want to keep this thing going if I no longer believe in success – and moreover, I stopped finding inspiration in any attempt at building the "creative studio of my dreams." I'm no longer the person I was in 2018, yet I'm still trying to push down the vision and ideas about the world that I had five years ago.

One might ask, why did you write that damn thing back in July. I genuinely believe in the concept itself, but this is not what I want to spend all my time chasing for the next few years. Building a creative studio does not feel relevant to me anymore. And it's okay. It's better to say "stop" now rather than later.

What now? I have to find out, to be honest. I now find immense joy in coding, AI acceleration, and science. Life is too short not to chase the things that inspire you.