In my last post, I took you with me to beautiful Nice on the French Riviera. I explained why I fled there in mid-October, and shared some fun facts about the city's history, how I felt there and, of course, TONS of photos of its landscapes, local life and inspiring little details.

One of the reasons I was lured to Nice was because it is also the perfect hub to explore other jewels of the Côte d’Azur, many of which can be easily reached by bus, train or car.

When I launch my Côte d’Azur print collection next week, you’ll notice that 4 places on the coast really tugged on my heart among all the towns I had the chance to visit. Places speak to us in unexpected ways sometimes, and so much of our nostalgia depends on our own memories of that day, the light, the people and perhaps whether or not there was ice cream involved.

So, who knows which places on the Riviera will inspire YOU the most! You’ll have to see them all to pick your own favorites.

When I close my eyes and think of Nice, I see her Promenade, the way the Sea changes its blue several times a day, the pizzas and ice creams, the window shutters and markets, the vast squares and narrow lanes, its dialect and busy port. 

As I mentioned ​in my last post, Nice has the perfect mix between old and new, urban and maritime, French and Italian. 

A very short hop away from Nice are 3 beautiful coastal towns worth visiting. Villefranche-sur-Mer is a picturesque town with an old harbor that is considered one of the deepest natural harbors of the Mediterranean, on a bay sheltered from strong winds. Beaulieu-sur-Mer and Cap Ferrat are tranquil resort towns that you can consider retiring in when you've made your first million. 

Spending time in the clifftop village of Èze was like being immersed in storybook pages. A village with ancient roots, it now is an atmospheric maze of shops, galleries and restaurants. Its warm color palette, textured architecture and pretty details suffice to overwhelm the heart from the first few moments of uphill climbing (which impacts the heart as well). 

From the Jardin Exotique (Exotic Garden) designed on the site of the medieval Château d'Èze fortress, you can lose all track of time surrounded by succulents, cacti and plants from all corners of the world, growing and flowering along winding pathways, caves and waterfalls, guarded by graceful statues perched high above the Sea. The views from the garden stretch far into the blue horizon and down below to Èze-bord-de-Mer and its beach. I would certainly go back to Èze and spend a whole day in this garden.  

​If you'd like to walk down to the beach, there is a steep winding path from Èze-Village. The surface of the path (even within the village) is quite slippery, so choose your shoes wisely. ​

Right on the Italian border, Menton feels wonderfully Ligurian in its architecture and, arguably more importantly, its limoncello. The lemon is the symbol of the coastal town, though its gentle micro-climate is also favorable to mandarine and orange groves, which make equally delicious varieties of liquor.

Menton has a charming old town, marina, waterfront promenade, daily market and beaches. The climb up to the top of the Baroque Basilica is well worth the views, both of the town and the Sea. 

Although it was mid-October, I took a deep breath and plunged into the Sea at the city beach just beneath the old town. As a local joked, after the first 30 minutes, the temperature of the water became more bearable. I didn't take pictures while floating on my back, but instead made a vivid memory of the stacked colored houses of the old town and the green hills surrounding it. 

Monaco is a must-see because of its world-renowned Monte-Carlo casino, but also because it is its own country with an interesting history.

It is easy to forget that Monaco is an independent country because France borders it on 3 sides (its fourth side bordered by the Mediterranean Sea) and French is its official language. Although Monaco is not formally part of the EU, there is no official border control when entering Monaco from France, and the euro is the sole currency.

The opening of its Monte Carlo Casino in 1863 made Monaco so wealthy that it no longer needed to charge income tax on its residents. To this day, Monaco continues to be a tax haven and a recreational destination for the wealthy, attracting visitors not only to its Casino but also to its annual Formula One race. 

If monarchies fascinate you, you could make a stop at the Royal Palace to watch the daily changing of the guards. (I found it more amusing to watch the crowds watch the changing of the guards through their devices). 

And, if you're like me and are amused by geography and borders, you can enjoy the fact that, depending on where you stand, you might be able to see 3 countries at once: Monaco, France and Italy. You can also get your passport stamped at the local tourist office!

Cannes is famous for its International Film Festival and its "Promenade de la Croisette" seafront strip of posh hotels, restaurants and shops.

​The Palais des Festivals et des Congrès was closed to the public during my visit, as they were setting up for an upcoming event, but I was able to enjoy a view of it from the long sandy beach. Fun fact: the sandy beach in Cannes is "artificial", in the sense that the city has had the sand brought over to enhance its appeal to visitors. 

Antibes is a chic town with a relaxed ambiance. As a Greek settlement, it was named "Antipolis", meaning "opposite city" because of its location across from Nice. It is known for its Port Vauban marina - the largest in Europe - which harbors both fishing boats and luxury yachts. You can walk the 16th century ramparts and admire the Alps from a distance. In Antibes, you have several choices of museums, notably the Musée Picasso. If the Sea and fresh air have stimulated your appetite, visit the Marché provençal market hall or enjoy a sorbet from one of the many ice cream shops in town. I really (really really) enjoyed my tropézienne sorbet, named after the traditional regional tart made with custard, butter cream, orange blossoms and sugar. Antibes also had lovely little shops to discover, and a charming English bookstore. 

An idyllic medieval village perched above sea level, St-Paul de Vence attracted many artists and writers in the 19th and 20th centuries who were looking for their muse, like Matisse, Chagall, Picasso, James Baldwin, Jacques Prévert and Yves Montand, to name a few. That artistic atmosphere is still alive and well today, as the town's narrow lanes are replete with contemporary art galleries and shops.

In the 14th century, St-Paul de Vence occupied a strategic position as a border city, and city walls were erected in the later half of the 14th century. Those ramparts and two of its original towers still stand today and, from them, you can enjoy sweeping views of the surrounding countryside. 

Now that you've had a glimpse of these coastal cities and perched towns, which do you most feel like visiting? Can you guess which 4 places left me longing to return? 
Leave a comment below and let me know!

Stay tuned for the unveiling of my new Côte d'Azur collection of fine-art prints, postcards and wall art. To get on the VIP list and get a sneak peek of the collection before it's launched, sign up here. 

From my heart to yours!

It's always just a matter of time until my restlessness makes me crave a suitcase, an airplane and a different timezone.

Sometimes, the travel bug is quite satiable by exploring new places close to home, like I did this summer. 

But sometimes, you feel like stretching your legs a little more. 

My favorite way of traveling is - like everything else I tend to do in life - based on feeling. What scenery am I daydreaming of? What would make my mind and body feel refreshed? Which culture is calling me? What kinds of photos do I want to share with you? (Don't underestimate the importance of the last question!)

This October, Nice had all the advantages for an easy, spontaneous getaway. 

For one, I felt an aching longing for Europe, especially Europe in the fall, which was my favorite season when I lived there. Nice was also inviting because it felt so accessible -- a direct flight, one tram-ride away from the airport, lots of accommodation options. It also has my favorite type of "city formula", namely: seafront + port + old town + new town, and it makes a great hub for exploring nearby coastal towns and villages. 

And, something that was particularly tempting: I had never been there. You know I love to return to places, but this time, I was in the mood for something new. 

So I scurried to put my work aside and to block off a week to rest my head, fill up my senses and press pause on "summer palette" for a little while longer, before immersing myself into falling leaves. 
​
​Essentially, Nice called and I went running. 

I immediately noticed how comfortable I was in Nice. It felt as though I had resumed my life in Italy. The architecture, Ligurian rhythm and Italian spoken all around me made me forget that I was in France for long moments at a time. Luckily, there were many fresh baguettes to remind me...

Nice owes its Italian similarities not only to her proximity to the Italian border but also to the fact that Nice went back and forth between belonging to "Italy" (or Savoy which became the Kingdom of Piedmont-Sardinia, which later became part of Italy) and belonging to France. In its complicated history, Nice was besieged and occupied several times by the French in the 17th and 18th centuries, and its ramparts and citadel were destroyed. In 1793, the French wanted to show that they were not annexing Nice against her will; a referendum was held and the people voted in favor of Nice belonging officially to France. 

Back in Italian possession in the 19th century, Nice was ceded to France as a thank you for France's assistance in Italy's war against Austria. A second referendum then confirmed the decision. Soldier and politician Giuseppe Garibaldi, who was born in Nice, opposed the result and argued that the vote had been rigged by the French. At the time, many Italians left Nice and moved down the Ligurian coast, giving rise to the movement of Italian irredentists who campaigned for the reacquisition of their beloved Nissa la Bella. 

The Niçard dialect has strong Italian influences and can still be seen on the street signs in Old Nice. 

So, Nice belonged to both France and Italy. But what do the English have to do with all this, then?!

In the 18th century, the English aristocracy began spending their winters in Nice, lured by the gentler weather. Before the seafront promenade was built, the waterfront areas were home to dockworkers and fishermen, rather than to fancy hotels and residences as we know it today. 

The "Camin dei Inglès" (Promenade des Anglais) walkway is said to have been proposed by the English as a useful urban project for beggars who came looking for shelter from the north during a particularly harsh winter. The wide waterfront promenade dotted with palm trees, beach umbrellas and blue chairs has now become the icon of Nice and its Baie des Anges.

Another symbol of Nice is the luxurious Hotel Negresco, opened in 1913 by Henri Negresco who wanted a sumptuous hotel to attract the wealthiest visitors to the French Riviera. The lavish rococo hotel with its iconic pink dome still maintains an elite bourgeois feel to it today. On the night of the Bastille Day attack on the Promenade in 2016, its famous main hall was used to triage wounded civilians, reminiscent of when the hotel was converted into a hospital during World War I. 

My sea-loving heart was so happy in Nice. I began and ended each day with the Sea. 
In the mornings, I would step out onto my AirBnB's balcony one block up from the Promenade, and try to peak between buildings to see what the Sea looked like, knowing full well that her color would change with every hour of the day. I would walk the pebbly beach after breakfast, taking long pauses between pictures to make sure I would remember the way the light and maritime air felt on my skin. I'd stop to notice the heavy scent of sea salt hanging in the air, and the deafening sound the tide made when it pulled out of the shore with millions of pebbles tumbling like coins in its grasp.

In the afternoon, I would plop myself down in front of the vast horizon, either on the shore or in one of the "chaises bleues", just watching, and being. A couple of times, I ventured into the water at high tide, amazed at how warm it still was in October. 

In the evenings, the Sea would summon me again and accompany me on my stroll back to the apartment. 

​Just for the sea (but for many other reasons), I could have stayed in Nice. 

Nice was also impressive for its many gorgeous squares and green spaces. I never felt rushed, squeezed, pushed or overwhelmed. The whole city had a soothing energy.

I can't say whether it feels like that for the locals, or at busier times of the year, but it definitely felt as though careful planning and restoration had paid off. Everything just made sense, from an urban planning perspective. 

Place Masséna is a sort of converging point between Old Nice and the new town. Walking up from the Promenade, you are blessed with this charming view of Apollo and the four horses on his head.

Place Masséna also leads to the "zone piétonne" (pedestrian street), bustling with restaurants, stores, ice cream shops and inns for every taste. 

You can stroll and sit for a long while in the calming "Promenade du Paillon" green space flanking Old Nice. If you look at a map, you'll notice it looks as sinuous as a river. That's because it was a river (the Paillon), which was covered in the 19th century. The river's terribly low water levels were unimpressive for residents, who mostly used the river to do their laundry. But the danger with the Paillon was that it could flood very quickly if there was a lot of rain in the hills behind Nice, and it did. The Miroir d'eau water jets and the nearby children's playground (featuring giant wood sea animals) were all designed to echo the underlying Paillon river. 

And if you enjoy narrow lanes far more than wide open spaces, then simply venture into the maze of streets of the Vieille Ville and linger there for hours. I promise you there is no shortage of inspiration for your senses. 

One of the aspects I miss most about living in Europe is the delight of market mornings. I would love buying not only produce and local foods from open-air markets, but also art, flowers and clothes. Especially in autumn and spring, I would love to find cozy sweaters and stylish boots, and to bring home art or antiques with a story to tell. 

The daily Marché aux Fleurs in the Cours Saleya square is primarily a flower market, but there are also many produce, food and art vendors. Off the Promenade, the Cours Saleya is behind the Quai des Etats-Unis (where you can see a mini Statue of Liberty). 

If you're a fish-lover like me, the fish market is located in Place St-François, an interesting part of the Old Town closer to Place Garibaldi. My Mom and I always say that I love the scent of fresh fish because she was unknowingly pregnant with me during her trip to southern Spain, where the smell of fish constantly made her nauseous. I like to think of traits that don't change, in a life where almost everything does!

At the heart of the Old Town, you come to the 17th century baroque Cathedral, Sainte-Réparate de Nice. Interestingly, its bell tower almost completely hides its gorgeous tiled cupola, so be sure to step back or climb up the hill to admire it in its entirely. ​

The Cathedral square, Place Rossetti, is also home to Nice's finest gelato shop Fenocchio, which is neither for the faint-hearted nor for the indecisive! Almost 100 flavors await your sampling. I recommend you visit once a day to try as many flavors as humanly possible! (Did I say once a day? I meant twice a day, at least). ​For the curious, my favorites were: meringue, fig, chocolate, nougat, cassis and almond. 

I'm sorry to say that to walk off all of the ice cream and pizza, the Promenade just isn't gonna cut it. Instead, you should climb up the Colline du Château (Castle Hill), take in the sights up top (like the Jewish cemetery, castle ruins and various lookout points) then walk down to visit the Port, and THEN walk all the way back to the new town via the Promenade. 

Then you can have more ice cream. 

The Port of Nice is currently under construction (in 2019) to accommodate a new tram, but the area is still highly enjoyable and picturesque. I love to lose track of time in ports and marinas, watching the comings and goings of boats, and imagining which one I would own. 

If you walk towards the Sea from the Port, you'll reach the Promenade, with the Monuments aux Morts, a tribute to citizens who lost their life in World War I.

Spending time in Nice in mid-October made me curious about how it changes and unwinds in the fall and winter. I am tempted to do as the English aristocrats did and trade my harsh winter for the gentle winter of Côte d'Azur! What do you think?

After all, one gets to know a place not only in its changing lights and tides, but its changing seasons. 

I hope my photos and words have convinced you to visit (or revisit) this precious place!

​Thank you, Nissa bella, for renewing my energy and spirit this fall. Our story's not done, I can tell. 

To read about the coastal towns and medieval villages I visited on the Côte d'Azur during my stay in Nice, check out this blog post: 

Stay tuned for the unveiling of the new Côte d'Azur collection of prints, postcards and wall art! 

I love to take long walks, tackling one neighborhood at a time, honing in on details that both you and I could easily miss! I love celebrating those details through my photography. Looking at some photos, you may not immediately guess that they are taken in Montreal, because the details could exist anywhere. But, there's something special about looking at your own city with a detail-oriented eye. Sometimes, it makes a more subtle souvenir, not only of the place, but of a mood or moment. 

Do you like to take walks in your own hometown? Do you ever take pictures of what you see? Share them with me on Instagram - I would love to see a little piece of the world through your eyes!

It doesn't matter where you go or how far it is - it's often simply the act of going that rejuvenates the mind, body and spirit. 

This summer's travels took me to the Atlantic coast of Canada. I kept it local, for a change. The arguments for Nova Scotia were simple yet compelling. For one, I've always hated that I have explored less of my home country than foreign countries. As I regularly do, I was craving the ocean - its power, its sensations and the savory fruits it generously provides. I also felt like something familiar, knowing that I was still "home" while "away", with the ability to disconnect from my surroundings without being overwhelmed by novelty. Finally, you have been asking me for Halifax and Nova Scotia photos for about two months straight, at every event I have done since spring. I listened to you last year with Havana, didn't I? So, I followed your recommendations again this summer and, before I knew it, I had travel plans for a road trip around Nova Scotia and Cape Breton Island.

What I loved most about my time on the coast was how it awakened my senses. The dreamy blues, the vibrant greens, the heartstoppingly cold ocean waters, the salt-infused sea breeze, the mouth-watering oysters, scallops and lobster, the feel of the soft rocks and shells I would collect at low tide... My stay in Nova Scotia was everything I dreamed of and more.

I reconnected with nature, with the ocean, with myself. I walked long stretches of beach along beautiful sand dunes, along docks where boats lay on their bellies waiting for the high tide to return so they could float again. I tasted local fish, local beers and local wines from the lovely Annapolis valley. I leaned into the slower pace of the maritimes, my head quieting down to let words surface, finally, after weeks of construction noise and traffic in Montreal. I enjoyed the friendliness of residents and travelers. Nova Scotia is an enchanting place, and I was already conjuring up dreams to return before even having left. 

If you know me a little, you can imagine that I came back home with something close to 1800 photographs. ​It has been painstaking but delightful to revisit them all, to sort them into "yes"es, "maybe"s and "no"s, and to gather the absolute "wow" scenes to add them to my art shop. 

Here is a sneak peek of some of my favorite places and moments in Nova Scotia. From the moody and mystical shores of the Bay of Fundy, to the awe-inspiring coastal road winding around Cape Breton Island, and all the inspiring, colorful places in between. 

Tell me: Have you been to Nova Scotia and Cape Breton? What was your favorite spot? Leave me a comment, I would love to know!

Stay tuned for my tips on planning your Nova Scotia trip on the blog, as well as for my Nova Scotia collection coming soon to my shop and to Etsy!

If you'd like to be the FIRST to get your hands on the collection with a special launch coupon, be sure to subscribe to my newsletter today!

Do you ever look at your calendar and pick a weekend in the not-too-distant future and decide that THAT weekend will be dedicated to unwinding? 

When I realized that I had "accidentally" booked myself solid for 6 weekend shows in a row, I stared at my calendar and blocked off my one remaining free weekend to do what I had felt like doing for quite some time: traveling to Quebec City, taking photos without any pressure, walking, swimming in a heated hotel pool, disconnecting from e-mail and social media, eating, drinking, laughing and feeling happy. Zero guilt, 100% leisure (well, except for the photo-editing that was to follow).

My wish-list for that weekend was simple: I wanted a room with a view, sunshine, I hoped to take 5 winning photographs, to enjoy an ice cream outdoors, to walk a lot without feeling pain, to swim in the late afternoon and in the early morning, to try a really tasty local beer, to discover a part of town I hadn't seen yet, to watch TV in the hotel room's super comfy king size bed and sleep in a little.  

It was a special weekend because I got to do all of that, and I ended up with quite a few photographs! I firmly believe that when we feel relaxed and centered, creativity and passion flow more easily. You observe more, feel more, do more - without even realizing it.

To those of you who had hoped I would have some Quebec City prints and coasters, your wish is my command! Some of these have been printed and tested, and will form my new "QCity" collection! I will have the collection with me at my upcoming Etsy Ville de Québec spring show (May 26-27). 

But, you know the drill: my VIPs get first pick before the collection is available online! So, check your inbox for a coupon (or sign up now).

Want to see which images made it into the QCity collection? Have a look!

Since my feelings get "trapped" into all the photos I take, I'm quite fond of my QCity collection because it was a carefree weekend, with loads of sun and laughter. Proof that you don't have to go far to feel like you're on holiday. 

From my heart to yours.

One of my favorite aspects of life so far is that my scientific work has always enabled me to travel, sometimes to faraway places. 

Whenever possible, I always tag on some extra days to discover and "feel" a place before the work schedule kicks in, not to mention to take some photographs at my own pace while I'm alone in a city. 

The time my work took me to Hiroshima, I had never been to Japan. I had never felt so 
acutely aware of how much our eyes read, in a day, until I couldn't read most of what my eyes landed on. I had never felt, right upon arrival, that the light of a place was so different from the light I knew. I had never visited so many beautiful and tranquil temples, had never truly enjoyed sake or tasted such delicious sushi. I learned more about the atomic bomb and its devastation than reading about it could ever show you. I had never experienced such awe at local markets or department stores, especially right when they open, when you are greeted almost ceremoniously. All the locals I met were so gracious, kind and classy individuals - I struggled to remember another place I had felt so comfortable visiting while travelling on my own. 

The first few hours in a place are always special - that fleeting feeling of novelty, excitement, maybe even mild anxiety when your surroundings are very different than what you are accustomed to - for me, those first impressions get crystallized in photographs and journal entries. Even once I get to know a city well, it suffices to look back on those first hours to feel all those butterflies that come with landing at a new destination. ​

The more I explored, the more I appreciated the culture, the architecture and local life. 

I was in Hiroshima and surroundings only briefly. I know that I would love to return to Japan and truly devote time to discover many more of its places and cultural experiences. 

Until I return again...

You may also like:

Certain places end up on our ‘bucket list’ without much warning. They’ve somehow always been there, like a thought whose source you can’t trace. They pull us – gently or hurriedly – until our plans materialize, until we speak the words out loud.

“We’re going to Havana.”

It was a somewhat spontaneous trip, but that doesn’t matter. It’s not really spontaneous if you’ve always wanted to go.
​
It was also a somewhat short trip, but that doesn’t matter either. If your eyes and heart are wide open, even a short trip can inspire you plenty, and give you that precious feeling of longing to return. 

From my first moments in town, Havana asserted itself. It became clear to me that Havana is a mood.
​
Although some squares like the Plaza de la Catedral and the Plaza Vieja have a slight European feel, and some narrow lanes and charming balconies cause your mind to wander to thoughts of other cities you’ve been to, much of Havana is in a league of its own, with an undeniably distinct character.

I spent the morning hours strolling the streets of Habana Vieja. Having refrained from looking at too many photographs of Havana before it was my turn to stand there, I genuinely had no well-formed expectations. What was striking from the start, aside from the stifling summer heat, was how much there was to take in.
​
I can’t think of that many other cities where I have felt the urge to comb the streets – each street – unwilling to miss anything. Venice, of course. Amsterdam, for sure. And now, Havana pulled me up and down its grid of streets, defiantly pushing my limits of time, temperature and tiredness. I followed, in awe of the architecture, the vintage cars, the colors and the contrasts between efforts of restoration and piles of decay.

“Hola!” a female voice broke my awe-stricken gaze.  I looked into an open doorway. In response to my eyes landing on hers, she pointed up. “Take a photo of that building,” she told me in Spanish. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? Everyone likes to take a photo of that.”
​
Many locals seemed to have grown accustomed to seeing their city through tourists’ eyes. Right from early morning, the stage was set and they were in position, keen to earn something from your mere presence. They yearned to engage in conversation, offered cab rides and tips, eager to know where you were from, where you were headed, if you liked salsa music, if you cared anything about Hemingway and where he hung out. How the conversation proceeded depended on your answers to their prompts. But they were always kind, never invaded our space, and let us go our way when we were ready to move on.

​In Old Havana, I noticed how the line between private and public was blurred. Open doorways revealed staircases that were as eerie as they were inviting. Other open doors offered glimpses into living spaces, dark and cool shelters from the beating sun. Some families happily called out to us from their windows, while other locals sat on their doorstep and offered a silent nod as we passed by.

​We walked and walked as the hours silently slipped by, and I took notes of my feelings and observations with my lens. My senses were overloaded. The color palette was enough to make skeptics dream – with its turquoises and pastels and ochres and crimsons and blues. The mixed textures of faded paint attracted my eye even more than any intentional street art. As the sun rose higher, sounds of music livened the air, intoxicating us with a rhythm impossible to ignore. Meanwhile, the nose was busy assigning meaning to various wafts of appetizing street food, enticing scents from fresh produce markets, the sweet perfume of churros, the heavy exhaust from vintage cars, and the stench of sewage and garbage – all of which fiercely competed with the other at every street corner. I watched life unfold amidst this flurry of senses, as locals went about their daily business, while dogs explored the streets, and cats hid from the sun in whatever shade they could find. 

​I finally found myself on the Malecón – the sea-wall promenade that is so beloved to locals and foreigners alike that everyone seems to love saying its name. The buildings facing the sea were surprisingly run-down, but authentic in their raw account of time. The sea was still when we were there – it had no interest in challenging the boundary that had been delineated to constrain it. Suddenly, we found ourselves standing in the middle of an informal baseball game, in the precarious position behind the batter. As the youths played below, an elderly man watched from above, standing in the only open doorway of a series of charmingly decaying houses. 

​Havana is aging gracefully, I thought, as I pondered its complex relationship with time. Parts of it are encapsulated in their own microuniverse, while others are unimmune to deterioration. The past is tightly interwoven with the present and future, through countless traces of Che and Fidel – two pillars of Cuban society that continue to watch over their people from both fading murals and kitschy souvenirs.

​I grew fascinated by the contrasts and ironies that stood at every turn. A beautiful façade flanked another in shambles, its near-perfection antagonizing the skeleton that guarded a lifeless pile of fallen stones. The governmental buildings and hotels stood polished, intruders in the fabric of the city. The double currency of the place legalized a sort of double-standard that is hard to fully grasp the ins and outs of – on the one hand, poverty, and on the other, a currency that is at par with the American dollar. Cars that are the unthinkable dreams for aficionados back home and a delight for tourists are merely a consequence of the regime that Cubans had no choice but to abide by, even if it meant having to improvise innovative solutions to maintain them.

​Locals shared snippets of their lives in conversation, explaining how there were some towns where they were allowed to work and others where they were not, describing their work hours and what they did in their time off. As I listened and watched, I wondered what it really means to live in Cuba, and how a change in leadership might affect Havana’s fate in years to come. 

​These impressions are what I hope to have captured in my Havana collection. The colors and textures, contrasts and ironies, rawness and authenticity, candor and simplicity, past and present, and that feeling of overwhelmed senses.

​All that makes up the special mood that is Habana.

To see which of these photographs made it into the all new Havana collection, check out this post.

You may have noticed that the collection is not yet in my art shop or on Etsy. I’m offering FIRST PICK, full customization of size and medium (paper, acrylic, canvas, wood or metal) and 20% off to my VIPs until August 25th.

Not on my VIP list? You’re missing out. Join here.

From my heart to yours.

The mission was fairly simple: To prepare for my upcoming One of a Kind Show by transporting my stock and equipment in advance. I figured that, while I was at it, I would take some photos to add Toronto to my collection just in time for the show. 

The allotted time for this mission: one single day.

Those who know me well would tell you that I am always quite ambitious when I travel. I always strive to see and feel a whole range of places, and to enjoy diverse experiences that would make a great collection of memories. Sometimes, this leads to walking for twenty hours, to the point where my legs despise me. I have come to love that sense of discovery, that longing to see a city's multiple faces and moods. 

But to do that in a day in Toronto - a sprawling metropolis known for its numerous neighborhoods all with their distinctive character - was ambitious even by my standards. And, before going any further, let me please mention that this was THE COLDEST DAY in Toronto. It was the type of day where my bones just rattled beneath my layers of clothes and warm winter coat. The wind was bitter, relentless, unforgiving. I endangered my hands with each and every photo I took, and it was a challenge to keep the camera steady in the wind, or to even see through the viewfinder with all the tears in my frozen eyes. The heart-stopping cold is actually the first thought that comes to mind when I look through all the day's pictures.

​So, time and weather were not quite on my side. Thankfully, though, my crew of lovely friends were on my side, and I am so grateful to them for helping me see as much as possible in a day, and never once telling me I was crazy for scurrying around the city in minus 20 Celsius temperatures, or for planning on producing Toronto fine-art prints and coasters days before the show!

In planning the day's goals, I settled for something between "seeing all the neighborhoods" and "seeing the CN tower" (though, let me confess, I was genuinely eager to see the CN tower, too!)

The result was a ton of running around, a ton of shutter-presses, and one very positive impression of a city I am eager to discover further. 

As I was staying with our dear friends in Milton, I started my Toronto adventure in the western part of the city. Around High Park, the houses were grand and the streets were quiet. I could only imagine how much prettier the area would look once the trees filled in the missing green from the scene. Steps away from the residential tranquility was the heart of the Roncesvalles village - its main boulevard bustling with locals, street cars and interesting cafés. I noticed my eye was immediately drawn to street signs, stop lights, crosswalks and the tangled webs of street car wires - an urban sight that differed from what my eyes are used to in Montreal. 

Next, we got a glimpse of neighborhoods like Parkdale, Bloordale and Little Portugal, enjoying how the urban feel (and the lampposts) changed from one neighborhood to the next. In Liberty Village, the CN tower teasingly came into view in the distance, contrasting with the industrial feel of the area. 

We headed to Exhibition Place (where the OOAK show will take place) and braved the biting cold as we walked along the waterfront in Coronation Park and the harborfront to theimpressive CN tower. 

After lunch, we were among the crowds of young people enjoying the bustle of Queen Street West. The vibe got decidedly more eclectic west of Spadina Avenue. 

Heading east, we spent some time in the downtown core, in Old Toronto and the artsy St-Lawrence market area, truly appreciating the peaceful co-existence of historic and modern architecture, just like in Montreal. 

As the sun began to dip in the sky, we headed to the Distillery District to take in the industrial mood of the area. I loved it there and spent quite some time among the brick buildings and colored doors. When my body was irreparably frozen, we stepped into some shops and had an artisanal hot chocolate. 

The hours flowed (too) quickly, but I thoroughly enjoyed my first-ever full day in Toronto. I vowed to spend more time and effort discovering its character, and promised to book a leisurely trip soon (the OOAK doesn't count!). 

Dare I say my mission was accomplished, as I now have a Toronto collection in my shop as well as on Etsy! Two sets of Toronto coasters are also ready to be revealed to you VERY SOON! The Toronto wall-art collection (on canvas, wood, metal or acrylic) has not yet been added to the shop, but you could custom order any of the fine-art prints in a different medium or size just by sending me an e-mail. 

If you're in Toronto between March 29-April 2nd, come find me at the One of a Kind Show and Sale in the Marketplace section, booth P44E. I'd love to meet you! You can purchase discounted tickets HERE with the promo code ETYUMPWG. ​

From my heart to yours!

You may also like:

Why is it that some places simply call you and end up on your bucket list? 

I have experienced it and witnessed it in others. I'm not talking about those places you've added to your list after seeing your friends' Facebook posts or reading article after article about it as the place garners more touristic attention. What really fascinates me is that inexplicable "oh!" that prefixes the name of a place when you talk about it longingly, while somewhat unsure of how it ended up achieving "dream status" with you. Mine have always been (in no particular order): Istanbul, Croatia, Sardegna, Prague, Sicily, Malta, Chicago, Prince Edward Island, Curaçao, Granada, St-Petersburg, Egypt, Morocco, Cyprus, Corsica, Corfu.

Corfu...

Corfu town felt surprisingly familiar. It followed the "formula" of a port city, particularly an Italian port city (my expertise!). It had all the necessary ingredients: old city walls, weathered façades -picturesque with their shutters, balconies and fresh laundry - local tavernas with tables spilling into the alleys and squares, church towers and their resonating bells competing with the crashing sea and restless seagulls, cutlery clinking at dusk, cruiseships docking at dawn, the sound of sandals slipping on cobblestone and locals greeting each other over the heads of a dozen other people, sunset light and souvenir shops, suitcases rolling and cats meowing for food, multilingual menus and English graffiti, fresh fish and seafood, urban beaches where you must share the water with anchored boats, starlight and moonlight, couples strolling and children playing until way past their bedtime. ​

There was a distinct Venetian influence that brought an extra smile to my face now and then.

The rest of Corfu island felt less familiar to me. For one, the island was greener than other maritime places I'd visited, unlike Puglia for instance. Some towns and beaches we chose to visit were refreshingly quiet - except for the deafening cicadas! 

I had always wondered how some travellers felt content to vacation at the same spot every single year, when there is so much of the world to see. Experiencing Corfu, I suddenly got it...along with the urge to buy a villa that we stumbled upon on a mountain road (#dreambig). 

We spent a lot of time with locals, talking about their lives, tasting their oils and wines and jams, feeling connected over very little in common. Language was no barrier to communication and genuine hospitality. Several times, we were moved by the approachability and generosity of the locals, and felt beautifully comfortable on the island. 

Corfu was a dream. Now, it is a place that makes me breathe deeply at the thought of it, that relaxes me straight into my fingertips and that makes me dream of a life experience where I, too, can feel connected to the land, to the sea, to beauty that comes alive through its people and its places. 

My favorite images of Corfu island will soon be added to the collection, for purchase in different sizes on fine-art textured paper, canvas, acrylic, aluminum or wood. Stay tuned on the blog, on Instagram and on Facebook to find out which scenes could be yours to bring home. You'll also be able to see them in person at the next Etsy Fait au Québec show in late September. (Psst: Don't risk missing out: Sign up for the VIP newsletter and receive a promo coupon to celebrate Greece's debut to the collection!)
​
Here's a sneak peak of just some of the newcomers to the collection. 

Stay in touch!

​In October, I finally had the chance to visit a city that has been on my ‘dream-list’ for years: Chicago. I had seen friends’ photos of the riverfront and, of course, of The Bean, but aside from these iconic views, I had little idea of what to expect.

​The winding and weaving El-Train was a highly enjoyable way to get around town and to see it from a different perspective.

​An architectural cruise allowed me to see the face that Chicago presents to the river, with its industrial bridges, playful reflections and carefully planned-out waterfront promenades. I have always been fascinated by cities that are built by (or on) water, how they interact with it and how it becomes part of their identity. 

​As if feeling tiny among the skyscrapers was not enough, I let myself lose track of time along the Lake Shore Drive and in Lincoln Park, feeling the wind from the lake, and watching the view of the cityscape change behind me. 

​I enthusiastically met all the requirements for the role of "Tourist": I stood amused by my reflection in front of the Bean. I climbed to the top of the Willis Tower and stood among the dozens of other tourists and their iPhones until the sunset colored the sky around us. I even made it through a deep-dish pizza! 

​I also tried to get a sense of Chicago’s other neighborhoods. I strolled through funky and eccentric Wicker Park/Bucktown, with its eccentric independent shops, galleries, bookstores and cafés. I loved the peaceful residential streets in the Lincoln Park neighborhood, and how the area around Armitage Avenue and Clark street suddenly grew livelier, like little pockets of the city hidden among peaceful stretches of trees and beautiful homes. I let myself dream as I weaved through the streets of the Gold Coast, and enjoyed the charming Old Town that had so much diversity to offer. 

Of course, a first trip, especially a short one, only ever serves to take that first bite out of a city. I always take it as consolation that there is no better way to guarantee our return to see more of it - soon. 

​~ * ~

A few photographs of Chicago have made their way into my collection, and are also available as fine-art prints in versatile sizes. 

​Check out:

• Fragmented Time
• Loop Bound
• Up She Goes
• ElTrain
• Lake Air

 
Stay tuned for “Musings” in other cities by subscribing to the blog, or by staying in touch on Facebook, Google+ and Pinterest!