finally time ... and then

Finally.

In Belgium, life had mostly been about appointments, paperwork, and everything that needed to get done. Now we're back in Lisbon, and somehow my mind always feels a little lighter here.

And yet… the moment there's room for my autonomous artistic practice, something strange happens.

Suddenly, I don't see just one new project—I see twenty. Mixed media pieces, One Page Stories... Everything seems to be shouting, "Start with me!" 😅 As if it all has to happen right now.

And then the doubt creeps in. I find myself staring into space, almost frozen. There's so much going on in my head that it can't seem to find a way out. Where do I begin? Meanwhile, time keeps ticking. What if there simply isn't enough time to bring everything that's bubbling inside my mind to life? What if other obligations get in the way again?

What I long for is time to simply let those ideas unfold. Without noise. To create a visual translation of how I see the world and what's going on inside me.

And even when I do have that time, I can still feel overwhelmed by all those thoughts and emotions. As if my mind briefly grinds to a halt.

Does that sound familiar?

I've learned that the answer rarely lies in thinking more. Noise-cancelling headphones on, a quiet place of my own, and simply begin. Small.

One brushstroke. One sketch. One stitched thread.

More often than not, it's not the big plan that gets me moving again, but that very first small step. And before I know it, I'm completely immersed in my own world again.

Maybe creating is simply about trusting that the next step will reveal itself.

And more often than not, that first small step turns out to be far more important than the perfect plan.