Pablo Carrascal is a designer, creative entrepreneur, and lifelong observer of how people move through the world. Trained in industrial design but shaped far beyond formal education, his career has unfolded across studios, cities, and disciplines, always guided by curiosity and an instinct for making ideas tangible.
Over the last fifteen years, Pablo has co-founded and led design-driven companies that reached global audiences, museum collections, and millions of people, especially in the US and China. From open-ended wooden toys to rethinking rest and recovery, his work has consistently explored how everyday objects can quietly improve how we feel, pause, and move. His designs have been exhibited at MoMA in New York and are currently part of the onboard experience at American Airlines. He shares his experience of applying creativity to business.
Early morning coffee
It’s an early Tuesday morning. We’re sitting in the corner of a café called Toma Café, two flat whites warming our hands. Tucked close to a radiator and a shelf, we find a small pocket of intimacy, even as people keep walking in to grab a coffee on their way to work. Outside, the city moves under cold air and steady rain. For us, at this table, everything slows. We’re waiting for the toast we ordered—simple, with tomato—letting the morning settle before the day begins.
From movement to belonging
His path took him from a small city in northwest Spain to Valencia, London, and Guadalajara, Mexico, before he ended up in Madrid. Each place added a layer to how he understands movement, scale, rhythm, and belonging.
Madrid is where professional ambition and family life now converge. He lives there with his partner and daughter, grounding this new phase not only in a fresh project, but in daily rituals that anchor him. Starting SOTIYO with his brother marks a shift—from years focused on rest and sleep to a broader exploration of comfort for people in motion. It is less about stopping, and more about moving well.
Morning rhythms and changing pace
Movement, for Pablo, begins early. His mornings unfold slowly, even when the day ahead is full. Some days start with breakfast at home and a walk to school with his daughter. Others begin before sunrise, heading straight to the studio. Coffee is the constant.
What stands out is not productivity, but pacing. His body wakes up before his mind fully catches up. By the time he steps outside, time has already done some of the work. When he walks with his daughter, the pace shifts entirely—conversation replaces planning, presence replaces projection.
On mornings headed to work, the walk becomes a mental rehearsal. Thoughts organize themselves quietly, preparing for the first exchange of the day with his brother. Right now, no two days follow the same rhythm. Building SOTIYO from scratch means routines remain flexible, even absent.
Since moving to the new studio, he has started taking different routes each day. Walking becomes a way of rediscovering the neighborhood—new cafés, places to eat, corners that might one day become part of a daily circuit. Starting over has made him more receptive, more attentive to the people and places that support forward motion.
The power of in-between moments
What stays with Pablo are not destinations, but pauses. He speaks with particular affection about street benches—simple, non-commercial spaces designed for sitting, waiting, thinking. Benches invite nothing. They ask nothing. They simply allow you to stop.
He moves quickly by nature, often faster than walking pace. He avoids using his phone while moving, aware of how it fragments attention and dulls perception. Stopping at a bench gives him a reason to slow down, to write things out, to let thoughts settle.
Sometimes he does nothing at all. He watches people pass by and imagines their trajectories—where they come from, where they are going. Over time, this has become a small personal game, a quiet way of staying present in the flow of the city. His silence can be perceived as discomfort, but once you know him, you realize he’s simply talking to himself.
How environments shape thought
Pablo is acutely aware of how his surroundings influence his thinking. One of his favorite places to be is an airplane. For years, it was a rare environment without constant connectivity, and he still preserves that limitation by choosing not to buy onboard internet. Before that, his refuge was the train. Nowadays, people still understand that you’re offline on a plane. On a train, it’s different.
Without external input, his mind shifts gears. Consumption gives way to creation. He moves to paper, to notebooks filled with diagrams, sketches, and reorganized ideas. The absence of interruption creates space.
This sensitivity extends into his everyday work. Pablo uses different physical spaces for different tasks. Writing emails happens at a desk. Drawing requires moving elsewhere. He likes to think in front of a wall. A single sheet of paper can limit the way ideas unfold; an entire wall offers freedom from the start. It allows him to focus on thinking, not on constraints, while his body remains in motion.
It’s not habit for habit’s sake, but a search for comfort and flow—matching the environment to the intention.
He also plans work around movement. Days that involve more time crossing the city are structured differently, giving his mind room to breathe. Motion, in this sense, becomes a resource rather than a distraction.
Transitions that redefine direction
Right now, Pablo finds himself in one of the most significant transitions of his life. After years leading a team of thirty people, finding the balance between design, factories, and sales. Making decisions that affected many other people beyond his own, he is entering a phase with a different cadence.
It is a moment of starting again, but with experience. A chance to generate impact without the same intensity, to work at a pace that feels more breathable. In between projects, he spent months practicing water sports he had never tried before—an experience that helped him understand himself differently.
He describes himself as lazy by nature, yet deeply engaged once in motion. Recognizing the need for an initial push—to begin, to step forward—has been one of his most important recent learnings. Momentum follows effort, not the other way around.
Objects that travel close
In daily life, Pablo carries only what feels essential: his laptop, headphones, and keys. Phone calls are rare; communication happens mostly through other channels. These objects form a basic kit for modern movement.
Travel expands that kit—and reveals a contradiction. While he likes to imagine himself packing lightly, he admits to being a “just in case” packer. Extra sneakers. An extra shirt. Items that may never be used, but offer reassurance.
This tendency is less about practicality and more about security. Knowing something is there, even unused, provides calm. His relationship with keys reflects this. Keys represent access, control, the ability to open and enter. Wherever he goes, having keys close offers a quiet sense of stability.
Recognizing good design
As a designer, Pablo cannot help but notice how objects are made. Stitching. Joints. Mold lines. These details speak immediately.
For him, well-designed objects convey solidity while inviting touch. They feel ergonomic in shape and weight, but also conceptually resolved. They are not ostentatious. They do not demand attention or inspire fear of breaking.
Good design fits into a broader harmony. Objects belong together, not through sameness, but through coherence. Context plays a critical role. The right environment can elevate a good design into something great—or undermine it entirely.
Defining comfort in motion
Comfort, for Pablo, is deeply practical and quietly emotional. It is the ability to spend hours outside without regretting what was left behind. It is air, freshness, and the absence of friction.
He compares it to the feeling after a good morning shower—the clarity and ease you wish could last all day. Comfort is having what you need within reach, precisely when you need it. Nothing more. Nothing missing.
Senses in transit
When asked which senses become more present in motion, Pablo hesitates. Touch matters to him, but he uses it sparingly. Taste plays a strong role—trying new foods, remembering flavors long after a place is gone.
But smell stands out most. Despite believing he has a poor sense of smell, it is often the first sense to activate in a new place. Smell becomes recognition. A quiet signal that says: you have been here before.
Staying out of autopilot
Avoiding autopilot requires intention. When time allows, Pablo changes his route to familiar destinations, welcoming slight disorientation. Discovery keeps attention alive.
When routes cannot change, he observes people instead. Couples. Grandparents with grandchildren. Strangers waiting at crosswalks. He is not interested in gossip, but in micro-encounters—the subtle dynamics unfolding constantly around us.
These observations keep movement human.
What comes next
Pablo’s next destination is China. For years, his trips there revolved around factories, suppliers, and markets—places he still loves. This time will be different.
He plans to travel with his family, revisiting those places through culture, daily life, food, and history. It is an opportunity to rediscover a familiar country at a slower, more human pace. Less output. More presence.
Listening to Pablo, a pattern emerges. Comfort is not about stopping movement, but supporting it. Design is not about objects alone, but about the contexts and rhythms they belong to. Progress is not always faster—it is often more attentive.
At SOTIYO, we believe movement shapes how we think, feel, and create. This conversation reminds us that flow is not constant. It changes with seasons, responsibilities, and curiosity. What matters is staying aware of how you move—and allowing yourself to adjust.
Comfort, in the end, is not static. It travels with you.
Next step
If this conversation resonated, you may enjoy exploring our coming conversations on everyday transitions and human flow if you prefer to receive these conversations slowly, you can subscribe to our newsletter and let them arrive in their own time.
