Kolo is a living network for therapies of hand and tradition. The one who cares, the one who seeks, and the places where care happens — each has its own path, and none of them is for sale. The pilot starts in Lisbon, in October.
Instagram shows and proves nothing. The website you pay for asserts what you wrote. The platforms take a commission and keep your reputation. None of them can say the one thing that matters: you can trust these hands.
Ingrid has taught Pilates and somatic practice for twenty years. Instead of filling in forms, she composes — and the rest follows.
She composes what she offersTouch the centre, name the core practice; everything she offers is a ring around it. Her kolo is this drawing — not an advert.
She appears where she worksOnly if she says yes, and with the precision she chooses. The Atlas lens lights her up for whoever seeks exactly what she offers.
Her page attests, on day onekolo.pt/ingrid: training recognised — by papers or by lineage, worth the same — and the trust she earns. A website asserts; this attests.
And she decides what showsExact point, neighbourhood, or nothing. Name, alias or initials. Anonymous with 4.9★ is a perfectly normal way to exist here.
And the people she already sees? They get her page link and come in through it — booking with her never costs them, or her, a commission.
You write nothing new: a template is only an arrangement of the modules your profile already has, and you can switch whenever you like. Hide a module and the others close up — no empty frames. kolo.pt/your-name, in anyone’s browser.
Editorial · black — your name across the full measure, one black-and-white photograph, all on a dark ground. This template has a variant on a cream ground.
Minimal — numbered blocks, nothing decorative. Only the photograph carries colour. A variant with a ground in a colour you choose.
Colour block — a ground in your colour, the portrait beside it, the practices as an accordion. A variant with a different layout and the same colours.
Studio — your given name huge in a serif, over the photograph of your space and a portrait of you cut into a circle.
Rita opened a link a friend sent her. She has no account yet — and needs none to see the village.
She sees everything before joiningThe link opens the whole map, no account, no signup — and nobody learns what she looked at.
She says where it hurts, not which serviceNobody types "I need a massage". The Compass asks: draw on the body, name the pain — and it composes the ask for her.
The constellation answersPeople who, together, cover what she seeks — nearer the centre, closer to the ask. A line between two people means they have worked together.
Then it is a conversation — not a checkout. Consent comes first, booking is a consequence, and ratings exist only over encounters that truly happened.
A circle is a room that governs itself — a practice, a lineage, a neighbourhood: the shiatsu study group, the doulas of Almada, a shared room in Campo de Ourique. No feed, no algorithm — a room, a charter, and whoever keeps it. What is lost in WhatsApp today stays ordered where the practice lives, waiting for whoever comes next.
Trading knowledge: questions and answers between peers, techniques, difficult cases discussed with people who understand them.
Events and training: workshops, retreats and classes announced to the people the practice concerns — not to a feed that decides for you.
Equipment and cover: a table lent, a room free on Tuesdays, someone to cover an absence. The small economy that keeps a practice standing.
Whoever enters affirms the circle’s charter. No affirmed charter, no entry — that is what keeps the room liveable.
Those who keep it are stewards chosen by the circle itself: public names, light but real work.
Compose: a name, the charter in a few lines — what this circle is and what it will never be — and the emblem.
Call your people: each person enters by affirming the charter. No mass invitations — hand to hand, like everything on Kolo.
Live: topics, events, equipment, exchanges. Seven posts a week, most recent first — and nothing else ordering you.
Every circle chooses its emblem — painted, not generated. A collection of paintings, ink on paper, for the steward to choose from. Your room has a face of its own in its first minute.
A circle is never a brand managing people. People always belong to themselves; the circle is the common ground. Enforced in code. And it costs nothing: raising and inhabiting a circle is free — Kolo charges its quota to people and to spaces, never to communities.
Each of these lines lives in the code — where it cannot be quietly tested away.
And no promoted profiles. Ordering has never had a price.
Never, from anyone. Kolo is no party to what is paid between you and the people who seek you out.
Seven posts a week, newest first. No likes, no counters.
≈50% verified ratings · ≈30% peer trust · ≈20% training.
Less than a coffee a week — the same for everyone. No commissions, no extras, no «featured» slots for sale — that is the whole price. During the pilot, nobody is charged anything.
We are choosing the first thirty people in Lisbon for the October pilot. You build your profile, compose your kolo, and leave with a page that attests your craft — before you have booked a single session.
