For as long as I remember, mathematics was part of my life. I didn’t study it for school. I explored it on my own, because I wanted to understand.
My father had a mathematical mind, and I inherited that from him. He never pushed me to learn. He just showed me new things when what I already knew wasn’t enough anymore. I moved forward naturally, one step at a time.
Early on, I was doing math beyond the school program. Not because I had to, but because it made sense to me. While other subjects felt like tasks, mathematics was something I could actually use my mind on.
When my father passed away, things became difficult. I had to take care of myself and my younger brother. What I had learned before, and the way I had learned it, helped me finish school even when studying was no longer a priority.
I stepped away from formal mathematics, but I didn’t lose the way of thinking. I kept building things. I wrote software, designed my own calculators, and tested the limits of computation.
I was accepted to Lodz University of Technology with an Individual Course of Study. I didn’t finish. Life got in the way. Later, I returned to school at the University of Social Sciences, where I completed my engineering and master’s degrees. I also started a company focused on electronics and software — from concept to product.
At some point, I left behind the idea of working with huge numbers. It wasn’t going anywhere. Still, one idea stayed with me: if I could count numbers with a fixed number of divisors through an algorithm, maybe I could look deeper into primes.
When life was no longer about survival, but had settled into a rhythm, I could finally return to what had always been there — my way of thinking, and the questions I had never let go of.
In 2022, I found structure. Not theory. Structure that explained prime numbers in a practical, observable way. I tried to share it, but I quickly saw how important formalism was to the academic world — and how little it had to do with solving problems.
I didn’t write proofs. I built answers. And what I built led me to a solution to the Riemann Hypothesis. Not by analysis. By structure. Structure that, in a way, had always been there.
What drives me is the desire to solve problems — but only the ones that inspire me. It's not just about the result — that often comes as a byproduct. What truly moves me forward is the quality and simplicity of the method.
The way I reach a solution must have logic, structure, rhythm — it must be primal in its simplicity. That simplicity is my fuel. When a solution emerges as the natural consequence of a well-understood problem, I know I'm in the right place.
At this stage, I prefer not to reveal too much. However, I can assure you — it's worth checking back from time to time.
The name of this site speaks for itself. Be open to rhythm, curious about structure, and attuned to resonance. Everything will reveal itself — in its own time. The rhythm is one, the numbers are many.
A visual echo of internal structure — not calculated, but emergent. The field lives on rhythm alone.