There are moments in life when something seemingly simple—an app, an idea, an NFT—awakens something that was dormant. That's what happened with Howlers.

TYSM proposed a beautiful madness: If you staked 10M tokens, you were whitelisted to mint a howler based on your Farcaster photo. A minimal gesture that ended up becoming a giant movement. The entire community howling in unison, celebrating the same creative pulse. Howlers of all colors, shapes, gestures. Shy, fierce, extravagant howlers. Howlers who, in some way, represented us.

And there, among all those new howls, an idea appeared that for me was inevitable: mint like howlers to my childhood and adolescence heroes.

Because, if you think about it, there's something deeply symbolic about that. The heroes of those years—those who formed us, inspired us, aroused curiosity, rebellion, and sensitivity in us—were always a bit of howlers.

• They were different.

• They were encouraged.

• They made us feel part of a pack when we didn't yet know we needed one.

The posters on the wall, the songs we repeated until we wore them out, the characters we imitated, the athletes who made us believe that anything was possible...

All of them were our first internal howls. Our first “I want to be like this”. Our first mirrors.

And now, thanks to TYSM, I was able to take them to another place: turn them into howlers. Give them skin, gesture, attitude. Immortalize them in a chain where the emotional and the digital coexist without asking permission.

Because a howler is not just an animal. It is a symbol of loyalty, instinct, community. It is the certainty that one is never completely alone, even when one walks differently from the rest. Those heroes were that to me: a reminder that there was something inside waiting for its moment to howl.

Howlers ended up being much more than an app or a launch. It was a bridge between what we were and what we are. Between the creativity of the community and the memories that still sustain us. Between the heroes that marked our adolescence and the pack that we are now building at TYSM.

Today I look at those NFTs and I don't see simple generative art. I see pieces of history. I see accumulated gratitude. I see early versions of myself looking at me from his howler eyes, telling me: “Go on, don't forget where you come from.”

And then I understand that TYSM is not an app or a token. It's a way of saying thank you. To remember. To honor what made us howl for the first time.

To my howler-heroes: thank you.

To the TYSM pack: we continue howling. 🐺

There are moments in life when something seemingly simple—an app, an idea, an NFT—awakens something that was dormant. That's what happened with Howlers.

TYSM proposed a beautiful madness: If you staked 10M tokens, you were whitelisted to mint a howler based on your Farcaster photo. A minimal gesture that ended up becoming a giant movement. The entire community howling in unison, celebrating the same creative pulse. Howlers of all colors, shapes, gestures. Shy, fierce, extravagant howlers. Howlers who, in some way, represented us.

And there, among all those new howls, an idea appeared that for me was inevitable: mint like howlers to my childhood and adolescence heroes.

Because, if you think about it, there's something deeply symbolic about that. The heroes of those years—those who formed us, inspired us, aroused curiosity, rebellion, and sensitivity in us—were always a bit of howlers.

• They were different.

• They were encouraged.

• They made us feel part of a pack when we didn't yet know we needed one.

The posters on the wall, the songs we repeated until we wore them out, the characters we imitated, the athletes who made us believe that anything was possible...

All of them were our first internal howls. Our first “I want to be like this”. Our first mirrors.

And now, thanks to TYSM, I was able to take them to another place: turn them into howlers. Give them skin, gesture, attitude. Immortalize them in a chain where the emotional and the digital coexist without asking permission.

Because a howler is not just an animal. It is a symbol of loyalty, instinct, community. It is the certainty that one is never completely alone, even when one walks differently from the rest. Those heroes were that to me: a reminder that there was something inside waiting for its moment to howl.

Howlers ended up being much more than an app or a launch. It was a bridge between what we were and what we are. Between the creativity of the community and the memories that still sustain us. Between the heroes that marked our adolescence and the pack that we are now building at TYSM.

Today I look at those NFTs and I don't see simple generative art. I see pieces of history. I see accumulated gratitude. I see early versions of myself looking at me from his howler eyes, telling me: “Go on, don't forget where you come from.”

And then I understand that TYSM is not an app or a token. It's a way of saying thank you. To remember. To honor what made us howl for the first time.

To my howler-heroes: thank you.

To the TYSM pack: we continue howling. 🐺