I won't reveal the title or concept of the book just yet (but you can subscribe here for updates on the book and special sneak peeks!). However, this Monday's inspiration comes from 5 key places that have a special place in the book.
This past weekend, I spent hours immersed in writing. I let go of all those anchors that ground me to the 'real world' and relished being on a separate plane of existence for a while. As you may know, writing has always been my main passion (photography just kind of snuck its way in). I am excited to reveal that, over the past few months, I have (finally) been working on a book of travel stories told in words, rather than photos.
I won't reveal the title or concept of the book just yet (but you can subscribe here for updates on the book and special sneak peeks!). However, this Monday's inspiration comes from 5 key places that have a special place in the book.
Have a smooth week!
From my heart to yours.
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The winter blues are a real thing. Many people experience a slump in their mood over the long winter season, and feel themselves breathe deeply with relief when spring finally arrives at our door. Spring intrinsically brings a sense of renewal -- new energy, a clean slate and budding opportunities. The sunlight has a different quality, the days are longer and, once the rain washes away the drab and dirt of winter, colors are saturated and the air is crisp.
It sometimes takes me a bit to truly get into the rhythm of spring, to feel lighter both in terms of my wardrobe and my mood, and to prepare myself for all that will inevitably blossom over the next months.
This spring, I am trying to exercise a “good vibes only” mindset, which can sometimes – due to our reactions to extenuating circumstances – be challenging to maintain.
I have been consciously trying to hold onto certain mantras that keep me focused on the good, while pushing out anything that - however momentarily - might bring me down.
Here are 8 'mantras' I have been prioritizing to maintain a positive mindset this spring.
1. "Do what you love"
We hear this a lot, and yet it is such a luxury to practice this when we are caught up in our busy, stressful, fast-paced routines. I feel so much better when I drop some tasks to just do something I love, like sit in the park, write, swim, sing, go for an ice cream or work on my business. Stressors tend to dissipate when you are emotionally equipped to deal with them, and emotions tend to respond well to a change of pace and environment that allows you to just be you.
2. "This doesn't work for me"
I have had the fortune of discovering and practicing this mindset over the last 10 months or so. It stems from a solid understanding of what matters to you at your core, and what only brings you anxiety because it clashes with those very values and goals. If you have an idea in mind of what you want your day or week or season to be, feel free to distance yourself from whatever (or whoever) does not fit with that feeling you want to create for yourself. As you do this more and more, you’ll soon be surrounded ONLY by the opportunities, people and tasks that you truly want for yourself. As a result, you’ll find yourself complaining a lot less about peripheral things that you have eliminated.
3. “I am destined for great things”.
I have this written on a post-it note on my desk. It helps stay optimistic but also serves as a reminder for a person to know his/her worth. When one thing doesn’t come to you, trust that something else soon will, because you deserve it.
4. "Think of what makes you smile"
This is a trick my Mom trained me on. It’s essentially a total distraction / consolation strategy, but it works in elevating your vibes to a higher level, so that good things come back to you rather than the negativity you may be putting out. It’s a fun exercise to take your bad mood and to feed it all the things you love about your life, all the faces you cherish, all your favorite places and memories, all those flattering things people have told you that have uplifted you at a moment in time. Let your mind cycle through this collection of vignettes at light-speed, and be attentive to how your face softens around the eyes and mouth!
5. "Don't judge the path"
This was an epiphany I had thanks to Alex Beadon, when we were talking about sudden and unexpected shifts in passions, careers and brands, and the feelings of guilt and pressure that are often associated with making such changes. Alex made me realize that everything we do, study, work on and create leads us somewhere, even if we can’t always draw a straight line from point A to point B. If, with the skills we acquire and the people we meet along the way, we realize that our mission has shifted, we should not judge the path that led us there, nor should we ever think something is a waste or a detour. Often, life events culminate in our current reality in messy (but beautiful) ways, and we don’t have to judge ourselves or feel affected by the judgments of others for those beautifully curving roads along the way.
6. "Use your immunity shield"
This is SO HARD if you are like me and setbacks or irritations stick to your skin for longer than you’d wish. Going back to #2, think: “Is this essential in any way?” and, if it’s not, try to keep it at bay. It helps me to visualize a sort of impenetrable white beacon around me, with me safely going on with my life with all the crap deflecting off the shield. This is eventually how you learn to float above hurdles and annoyances (admittedly, I am not there yet).
7. "Bloom at your own pace"
I recently read a quote that made me blatantly realize that nothing in nature blooms year-round, so why should we expect ourselves to be in a constant state of bloom? Comparison and competition (with others or oneself) is such a plaguing habit. It’s healthy in some ways, but so detrimental in that it can rob us of joy and mindfulness. These days, I try to appreciate everything I do, no matters its speed, reminding myself that life is not meant to be a race, and it is much more valuable when it is enjoyed. For ambitious folks (like me), this mindset feels impossible to maintain, but practicing it at least a little helps to alleviate some of the crippling pressure.
8. "I'm happy".
No matter what is going on in our lives, there are small pockets of momentary bliss where we feel okay - whether it’s a moment bracketed by laughter during an evening with friends, or the tranquility brought on by a sip of wine, or sunshine on your face, or gratitude for a bus you happened to catch. In those micromoments of happiness, however fleeting, I consciously tell my brain, “I’m happy”. It sounds silly, but relief, optimism and gratitude follow – all of which are feelings that attract more good things.
Tell me: Can you relate to any of these?
Leave a comment to connect – I would love to hear from you.
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If you follow me over on Instagram, you know that I have a little series on Sundays called #sundaywisdom. I sometimes post a quote or a personal reflection. It gives me a chance to connect with you and share some inspiration through words and a photo.
This Sunday, what I'm sharing instead are 5 things I often tell myself for encouragement, whenever I'm in need of a mini pep-talk. 1. This too shall pass
When something makes me plummet, I try to balance mourning and positivity. It's important to give yourself a little time and space to brood and pout, but know that you can overcome any hurdle, and every hurdle is temporary because we either find a solution or acceptance.
2. Look how far you've come
It's so easy to feel overwhelmed and blinded by how much further we need to go, but it's crucial to take a moment and truly reflect on how we have grown. Practicing that habit plants little seeds of gratitude, pride and confidence.
3. Breathe
I used to be a good breather, but some things have complicated that simple capacity. I don't breathe enough. It's strange - I often catch myself holding my breath. Since the beginning of this year, I have made it a point to consciously tell myself to straighten my posture and BREATHE - deeply and completely. Nearly each and every time, I've immediately noticed how a deep breath brings a subtle feeling of relief.
4. Trust yourself - you are good
I actually have this written on a pink post-it in my office. I used to have it in my PhD office and I brought it home when I graduated, because it is an encouraging push that fits any realm of work and life. It seems we have to prove ourselves on a daily basis to others, to communicate the value of our work, to justify our way of seeing and being. Giving others' voices and critiques a prominent place in our head often takes over our own beliefs about our abilities and our worth. Trust in ourselves needs to prevail over any doubt!
5. Just be you
If someone can't deal with the fact that you are committed to being you, then too bad. You being you is your top priority in life - because it's YOUR life.
What's something you often tell yourself? Let me know in a comment!
Three weeks in Puglia. I set out on a long-awaited trip to a region of Italy I had yet to explore. My itinerary consisted of a dozen towns along both the Adriatic and Ionian coasts of Italy’s stiletto, as well as some inland gems. There was enough room in the itinerary for spontaneous adjustments and unexpected discoveries, and it was certainly a priority to sense and savour every ounce of local culture. One of the cities I was excited about discovering in Puglia and the Salento peninsula was Lecce – a historic hub known as “The Florence of the South” for its splendid baroque architecture. While still in Canada, I looked up cooking and wine courses that would allow me to learn about the regional specialties in a more hands-on way. A Google search landed me on The Awaiting Table – a then eleven-year-old school that had glowing Trip Advisor reviews. I lost myself on the website, reading about the school’s approach and its variety of courses. The most appealing ones were a week long, either in central Lecce or in a historic Castello. There were specialized courses focusing on wine, bicycling and cooking, making tomato sauce or making olive oil – I loved the idea of every one of them! I would only be in Lecce for 3 days, so I’d only have enough time for a day-course. My dates weren’t on the class calendar, but I decided to send an enthusiastic and hopeful e-mail (I could barely contain my excitement after having discovered this school!) to inquire anyway. Silvestro, the owner, was so accommodating, and – before I knew it – I had a day-course booked in my name. Flash-forward to that July morning. The city was slowly coming to life, though circling pigeons and a scorching sun had already dominated the sky for some time. Silvestro came to pick us up in Piazza Sant-Oronzo, a large wicker basket in hand. We set out to the market to choose our fresh ingredients for both lunch and supper. The immersive learning had already begun without notice; as we walked through Lecce’s ochre-toned streets, Silvestro pointed out landmarks and described life in the town, his explanations punctuated by waves and nods to fellow locals who passed us by. “There goes Silvestro and a new batch of students,” I imagined them thinking. Through conversation and abridged life histories, we began to get a sense of Silvestro’s passion for Puglia and the basic principles of salentine food, which I like to think of as simplicity, authenticity and loyalty to the land. We passed Porta Rudiae, Lecce’s oldest city gate, and walked into the market. Cesare greeted Silvestro and our mission began. The menu was set; Silvestro had all the necessary ingredients in mind for each course. “We need parsley,” he’d say to me, prompting me to ask Cesare for a batch of it. This interchange was repeated for each required ingredient. Silvestro took care of ordering the rabbit, and we were off – wicker basket filled to the brim and hands eager to get to work. “That’s Emiluccia,” Silvestro affectionately pointed out his Fiat 500 when we crossed his courtyard. The day-course takes place at Silvestro’s house, in a kitchen he created from scratch from an old stable. Stepping into the kitchen was like stepping into an authentic, colorful, picture-perfect cookbook – only better. In just my style of colorful, functional décor, the walls were adorned with colorful colanders, wooden cutting boards, pots and pans, and some of Silvestro’s photographs. Bowls, utensils and other appliances were labelled in Italian to allow foreign students to pick up some new vocabulary during their stay. A cool natural light poured in from the garden. We emptied our groceries onto the marble counter and Silvestro began to explain what we would cook for lunch. I tried to focus, but my senses were completely overwhelmed in that kitchen! I asked Silvestro if I could take a couple of quick photos before getting started. “It’s so beautiful, it’s distracting,” I laughed. In the meantime, Silvestro poured the wine and prepared our cutting boards for us to begin making our fresh pasta. We wore aprons, rolled up our sleeves and got our hands involved without any hesitation. We learned by doing, our hands-on experience complemented by Silvestro’s explanations. Silvestro's priority was not only to teach, but also to take care of his guests; no question was unwelcome, no strategy was incorrect – all he asked in return was that we be happy in his kitchen. “There is only one rule here,” he told us. Being happy was almost too easy. I couldn’t think of a better way to spend the day. My orecchiette were far from perfect; having watched local ladies effortlessly make hundreds of orecchiette by hand in front of their homes in Old Bari, I expected my hands to be faster and more successful than they actually were. “Track your progress,” Silvestro advised, lining up his own orecchiette chronologically on his cutting board. “You’ll see how you improve with practice”. While our two varieties of handmade pasta shapes were drying, we proceeded to chop and prep the rest of our ingredients, opening bottle after bottle of wine. When time came to sit down, elbows resting peacefully on the colorful linen, we savoured our lunch, careful to eat slowly, conscious of the hours of thoughtful preparation. In the late afternoon, Silvestro took us wine-shopping and gave us a crash course on the local varieties, their differences and individual strengths. Negroamaro, malvasia nera, salice salentino, primitivo…we made mental notes and anticipated the tastes of each variety. We returned to the kitchen and began to prepare our supper. Silvestro took to the chalkboard, and gave us a short lesson on the “why” of salentine cuisine – the ways in which the food has been influenced by the region’s geography, climate and cultural contact over time. As we learned and cooked and drank and ate, we felt. We experienced a little bit of the local world view, and quickly realized that these are not simply recipes to discover or methods to learn, but a way of living and breathing. What I loved most, perhaps, was that the conversations alternated flawlessly between getting to know one another and learning about cooking and wine. It was such a comfortable and inspiring setting, and it was genuinely easy to lose track of time. As the evening aged, our voices grew quieter. There was an unmistakable temptation to help clear the plates and tidy the kitchen, as you would do with old friends who selflessly hosted you. As we said our thank yous and goodbyes, and headed out into the surprisingly lively Lecce night, I realized I got more out of that one-day course than I expected. I couldn’t stop talking about it for days to follow. I have since recommended it to friends, and I wholeheartedly recommend it to you. Through conversation and participation, hands-on practice, you internalize more than you thought possible in such a short time. When the time comes to leave, you do so with full stomachs, full hearts and overwhelmed senses, with flavors of food and wine still on your tongue, and new facts whirling about in your head, becoming consolidated as new knowledge. And, to your surprise, that initial sense of wonder and curiosity has not subsided but is even amplified, pushing you to make immediate plans to return. The Awaiting Table has been around for fourteen years, but is constantly growing and improving; with Silvestro's creativity and intuitive sense of innovation, there is always a new kind of course being offered. To get a taste of the culture and everything there is to experience and to learn, treat yourself to some of Silvestro’s compelling short films and blog posts. Until you could get there yourself, they are sure to peek your interest and make you dream of Italy’s unspoiled heel. From my heart to yours!
There is nothing more thrilling for my restless soul than to discover a new place as often as life will allow it. There were years where I traveled to several new cities each month; admittedly, it's way easier to have that kind of travel rhythm when you live in Europe. There were other years where my scientific schedule allowed me to fly overseas three or four times in a given year. Although I was not escaping my daily life by any means, I became addicted to the feeling of collecting places in my passport, my photos and my life story.
Wanderlust is at once insatiable as it is exhausting. It's also deeply ingrained and quite possibly genetic, or at the very least highly contagious. I have welcomed "quieter years" with open arms, and I have learned to explore my own daily surroundings with the same sense of discovery and joy without the limited wardrobe, Ziploc bags, foreign currency and nauseating waves of jet-lag. But even during quieter times, I try to see at least ONE new place a year. If a conference or friendly visit is on the agenda, I try to combine it with someplace I have not yet been. In choosing a travel destination, there are 5 types of places I am intrinsically lured to.
1. Port cities
Aside from the fact that Montreal itself is a port city, one of the earliest experiences that shaped my love for port towns was my time in Ancona on Italy's Adriatic coast. I love the raw, rough, busy feel of port cities - that characteristic curve of harbourfront roads, colorful cranes and containers stacked high against the backdrop of water, and the way a port looks from above, with the sea spilling into the urban space and large ships making smaller boats and buildings look tiny in comparison. Aside from Ancona and Venice which have their own special status with me, port cities that hold a key place in my heart are Bari, Barcelona, Lisboa, Corfu, Amsterdam and Copenhagen.
2. Rustic old towns
I love old towns. I love their façades -- with beautiful textures, colors and architectural details - their narrow lanes, their broken steps and missing cobblestones, their churchbells, their market days, the sounds of someone sweeping their doorstep or opening their rustic shutters, the sounds of cutlery clinking at dusk. I love the way that residents' voices echo between balconies or rise up from the street to the windows - that same way that tourists' suitcase-wheels disrupt the gentle morning silence. The smaller the town, the more I get turned around, but I have learned to love that too.
3. Riverfront meets urban
Water is my element. If I can't have the sea or the ocean, at the very least I need a river. I remember how down I used to feel when returning home to Florence after a weekend in Liguria - the Arno would definitely not lift my spirits or make me feel any less landlocked. Canals will also do, but only if there are several of them (the 3 canals in my beloved Milan barely get a 'pass'). I especially love it when a river cuts through a city with a strong urban feel, like Chicago, Berlin or London, and the way the architecture and city culture have a dialogue with the water. Rome and Paris have their own unique feel, and I adore both in a way that can't be summarized in these few lines. I also have wonderful memories of Prague, Dresden, Zurich, Verona and Budapest. Cities with a river coursing through also make very nice maps.
4. Fishing villages and coastal towns
I am drawn to coastal towns and tiny fishing villages to such an extent that it is exceedingly difficult to choose which towns to stop in along a coast - if it were up to me, I would spend time in every single one (and never make it back home). Coastal towns are magical - the way they are built in relation to the sea is a wonderful sight. Some towns are a jumble of pastel-colored houses, stacked one atop the other with no visible spaces between them, on a precarious cliff overlooking the vast sea. Others are sprawled flat and low, as though to keep the sea close and allow everyone the same spectacular view. Fishing villages are among my favorite places to stop for lunch, always eager to spend some time among colorful boats, kind locals and the generous offerings of the sea.
5. East meets West
I have a fascination for cities that mark a junction - either historically or geographically - between East and West. I once went on a mission to analyze the eastern influences on the urban fabric of Venice and its architecture. Istanbul is also still at the top of my dream travel destinations, as is Morocco.
What are your favorite kinds of travel destinations - the types of places you gravitate towards? Tell me in a comment, I'd love to know.
This concludes the 7-part Birthday Blog Series. Veni Etiam Photography is celebrating its two-year birthday this month. Don’t miss out on the special PAIRDEAL birthday promotion that ends TODAY! Visit the main shop or my Etsy shop to choose a piece of the world for your home.
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Over the years, looking through a lens has taught my eye to see things differently, until that way of perceiving beauty became second nature to me.
I have noticed how there are certain things that I am just drawn to photographing – certain subjects that recur in my photographs again and again, whether I travel far or take my camera for a stroll down the block.
1. Reflections
What I love most about reflections is that sometimes they are obvious and right in my path, while other times I have to actively search for them – consciously changing my angle or height and hoping for a little bit of luck. Yes, I am that person who circles around a puddle (at least) twice, staring deeply into it like she has lost an earring (or her mind). I am incidentally also that person who looks like she’s spying on people through a window, or that she’s about to fall over into a canal…It’s almost always worth it, though. Reflections are little treasures that bring me a lot of joy.
2. Boats
If you know a little bit about me by now, you know that I feel deeply connected to the sea. Port towns, fishing villages, colorful boats, anchors and nautical rope are among my favorite elements to photograph, quite simply because they are among my favorite things in life.
3. Decay
My time with Venice has made me appreciate the raw beauty of decay and disrepair. There is something rather poetic about a place standing the test of time – faded, weather-beaten witnesses of a long string of days and all the wisdom that age brings.
4. Daily details
One of the most important gifts my camera has ever given me is the ability to document even my most ordinary days and, through that act, to realize that simplicity is the purest kind of beauty. When I discovered my growing interest in photography, I made it a point to practice every day by committing to a 365 project – a photo a day. What we don’t realize between glorious snapshots are that some days – perhaps even most days – are utterly ordinary and uneventful. On those days, my photo subjects were random things like fresh laundry, folded sweaters, frost on a windowpane or pillows on my couch.
I enjoyed the exercise so much that it became a habit, even on eventful days or incredible travels. I consider it a kind of mindfulness exercise, to notice and celebrate simplicity. The glorification of the mundane is a running theme in many of my photographs and in the writing that fills many of my journals; everyday beauty and daily details, in travels and in my own life, are often the snapshots that I appreciate the most when I look back on the year.
5. Textures and patterns
Looking through the lens really trained my eye to pick up on lines, patterns and textures, and to experiment with compositions that showcased them. I felt my tastes change over time; I became more interested in an urban, industrial feel, and played a lot more with lighting and with black and white to bring out the mood in those scenes.
I love geometricity, hard patterns and soft patterns, perfect lines and imperfect lines. I love asymmetry as much as symmetry. What I love most is to be surprised when patterns and textures manage to make a statement in a photograph – sometimes even more than in the real-time moment itself.
6. Shutters and balconies
My fascination with shutters started early on, in Italy. Windows and shutters are portholes into a different view, the threshold between inside and outside, private and public. Balconies are often glimpses into the architecture of a city and the life of its residents. Best of all, my love for window shutters and balconies makes me lift my eyes up and around, in search of color, perspective and inspiring urban oases.
7. Food
Food photography is my guilty pleasure – my secret dream, the skill I would leap into perfecting if I had the luxury of dropping everything else for a while. I can’t tell you how many times a month I am tempted to procure antique silverware, paint different kinds of wood slabs as tabletops and allow myself to lose track of time cooking, staging and photographing dishes in the natural light pouring in from the guest bedroom window.
Fun fact: Often one of my new year’s resolutions involves dabbling in new cooking and food photography projects. One year was the year of “Twenty soups”. Another year, I promised to make 12 kinds of risotto in the autumn and winter months (“Risautumn”). My love for cooking began when I moved to Europe and lived on my own for the first time. My love for food photography was sparked by the magical cookbooks written by Tessa Kiros, photographed by Manos Chatzikonstantis and styled by Michail Touros.
8. Sunsets
Sunsets used to plunge me into melancholy; I would watch quietly as the sun dropped to the horizon, feeling a very mild twinge of angst that the passing of time could be so blatantly visible to the eye. I have grown more accustomed to sunsets and to celebrating their beauty, even though I am still not fully comfortable with the series of milliseconds leading up to point where the sun suddenly gets pulled beneath the horizon. I childishly hate the idea that I can’t see something that was just right there. I enjoy photographing that series of milliseconds, as if to try and cheat time and freeze it, so the sun won’t actually dip out of our eyes’ reach.
What do you love to photograph?
Tell me what draws your eye. I’d love to know.
From my heart to yours.
Favoritism is a real thing.
In an ever-growing collection of photographs, there are a few that are special to me and that I am especially happy to see you adopt for your home.
1. Laguna Mia
Venice, of course. My lagoon, my soulmate. I remember the day perfectly. I can still feel the damp lagoon air on my face and tangled in my hair. I was alone – my favorite way to be in Venice – and I was close to one of my favorite places in the city. I was taking my time to get there, making sure to look thoroughly around and take in everything along the way. The air threatened rain, but Venice and I have a pact on that, so of course it didn’t rain. Two gondolas, a bridge and the perfect reflection. I felt as though I’d just captured a painting. I knew it was special to me before I even saw it on my computer. Laguna Mia encompasses so much of what I love and so much soulful atmosphere in a single shot. It is the cover of my (unpublished, stay tuned) book on Venice. It has my heart.
2. London Bulbs
Not long ago, I wrote a post about this photograph, as part of my “Made Me Look” series. London Bulbs is sentimental for a multitude of reasons – finally a trip to London, and one of the first photographs where I consciously thought that my eye had developed into something new, in capturing a mood and a pattern. I remember feeling as though I had caught something special just there. London Bulbs is so memorable for me that it forms a subtle background to my business cards (thanks Alati design atelier!).
3. Barcarolle
Another “firefly” I caught in my palm. Another moody day on the water. I took this photograph in Bari, southern Italy, one of my favorite port towns. I wrote about it as part of my “Made Me Look” series, and you may have caught a glimpse of it in my “Adriatica” blog post, because I had it made in acrylic for my maritime-inspired office. Veni Etiam was already in the works but not publicly unveiled when Barcarolle was taken. I remember discussing it with someone who said they thought a lone boat was so melancholic. That’s interesting, I told her. I find it so powerful. It is a meaningful photograph not only because I adore boats, port towns and Italy, but because of the power I perceive in its melancholy.
4. Malinconia
You may have guessed from the title that a touch of melancholy lives in this scene as well. I love this photograph for its colors, the reflection, the ropes and buoys, and the light. It was one of those rare shots where I only took one variation of it. I have it framed in my office. It reminds me that old, weather-beaten, rustic souls can be beautiful.
5. Converging Boats
There was so much that was beautiful about the small fishing town of Bermeo in the Basque Country. It was a cloudy afternoon, but all the colors of the village and the docked boats livened up the scene. I walked slowly along the marina as locals enjoyed their lunch at several small restaurants facing the sea. I looked down and found a dock with vibrantly colored boats, tied to the same anchor. Their harmonious position and colors made me stop in my tracks. I have never seen anything like it since.
6. Gondola
The tide was coming in. Waves were already spilling onto the wooden docks. The gondolas rocked and rose and fell with the unsettled waters, banging against the wood against their will. There were very few people around by the Canal; the fish market further away was in full bustle. I walked up a gilded gondola and caught its reflection in the puddle the tide had left. I love this photograph because of the unexpected reflection, and the way that each return to Venice offers me a new view to experience and cherish.
Do you have a favorite Veni Etiam photograph? Tell me below!
This was Part 4 of the Birthday Blog Series. Veni Etiam Photography is celebrating its two-year birthday this month. Stay tuned for more of the 7-part blog series and take advantage of the special PAIRDEAL birthday promotion until January 31st.
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1. I was born and raised in Montreal but have had an address for a prolonged period of time in 5 other cities. Out of these, Florence is the only city that is not part of my shop collection, as digital photography had not found me yet and somehow I think scanning faded film photographs would not result in pretty wall-art for your home! I’ll have to return – as is my way (and the translation of the Latin name of my shop). 2. I should probably not admit this rather reckless habit…but I tend to throw my camera in my bag or purse without extra protection. That way, no excuses, it's always with me and I'm ready to use it (rather than a camera phone) whenever the mood strikes or opportunity arises. 3. In large part, I owe the development of Veni Etiam to my scientific career. Living in three European countries and attending scientific conferences two or three times a year have allowed me to see places I would not have otherwise travelled to in such a short period of time. Even when travelling on scientific business, I try to plan two days in my schedule for exploring, writing and photographing the place at my leisure. Bonus fact: I wrote for my University blog for almost five years before finally launching my own blog. 4. I love color in all things. You’ll notice from my shop, my Instagram account and glimpses I give you of my personal space that there are no neutral tones and there isn’t much white. I’m known for my pink and purple post-its. My apartment is called the "Pink Palazzo" due to its antique rose walls. Almost none of my Christmas ornaments or dinner plates belong to a uniform set. I live in a very colorful world and I translate that into Veni Etiam. This is possibly related to a neurological trait I have called “synesthesia”. Without color, I just wouldn’t be me. 5. My biggest dream is to be an author – not only a blog writer or scientific author, though I enjoy both tremendously, but to sit my butt down and finish a book, cover to cover, and to have it printed would be my greatest joy. This was Part 2 of the Birthday Blog Series. Veni Etiam Photography is celebrating its two-year birthday this month. Stay tuned for more of the 7-part blog series and take advantage of the special PAIRDEAL birthday promotion until January 31st. From my heart to yours.
It feels like so much has happened since I wrote my first blog post the day that I launched my little passion project, that it’s incredibly hard to believe it’s only been two years.
So hard to believe, in fact, that I have found myself mentally double-checking my arithmetic (2015 to 2017, yes, two years. Duh, silly girl). In two years, Veni Etiam went from being a web portfolio with a blog, to a dynamic shop, as well as a seller on Etsy and in the local Montreal community, with its growing inclusion in stores and art fairs.
It may be bad business to admit this, but when I opened my shop two years ago, I didn’t have a clear business plan or a clear goal – not even at a vague conceptual level, let alone in a measurable set of milestones and metrics. All I knew was that it was time, that it was risky and that it made a little pocket of space inside of me fill up with excited butterflies. Everything else, would have to come along the way.
I was pursuing my PhD in neurolinguistics by day (and night… sigh #consumedbymyPhD) and working on Veni Etiam in those intervals where my eyes took breaks from my Excel sheets and experimental designs to work on more Excel sheets and on web-design. I remember being late to start on my academic to-do list on some mornings due to urgent product photos that I had to take to explain to clients what aluminum prints and floater frames looked like. Suddenly, I was standing on a chair in the dining room of my tiny but beloved apartment that I had affectionately named “The Pink Palazzo”, taking pictures of pictures (a sometimes frustrating task) from all sorts of angles, while my thesis beckoned. But there was room for both in my heart and in my life.
Building a business at the same time as building a research career was as bizarre as it was, simply put, “me”. The only downside about having two lives was that I didn’t have as much time and energy to make Veni Etiam grow to its full potential right away. But life isn't a race, and sometimes we benefit more when we don't try to force the pace of everything.
As time went on, my passion grew. Ideas crept up faster and could not be ignored. Structure and strategy developed. I learned so much from fellow artists and clients. I experimented and fine-tuned. I took leap after leap; sometimes it paid off, sometimes it didn’t, but I was happy I took each leap, because now I don’t have to wonder, and now I don’t have to try that again.
A lot has changed in two years, and I feel momentum, excitement and gratitude. I am pumped for this year and so grateful for followers who “get” what I do and why I do it, who feel inspired by my photographs and stories, and whose feedback always keeps me motivated and aligned with how to best serve you.
As a firm believer that all moments in life should be celebrated, I’m including you in my birthday celebration!
♥ On the blog this month, you can follow my Birthday Blog Series featuring 7 posts about travel, photography and home décor, including glimpses into Veni Etiam’s personality and mine. Keep an eye on the blog or on Instagram and Facebook! ♥ For this special occasion only, you'll receive a FREE 8x8 print on textured fine-art paper with any art purchase. I'll ship worldwide, but free pick-up in Montreal is always an option. UNTIL MONDAY ONLY (16.01), members on my VIP list get: ♥ to choose which 8x8 fine-art print they wish to receive for free ♥a bonus chapter with the story behind the photograph or travel tips for the place featured in the photo Not on my VIP list? Let’s remedy this! Sign up and you'll receive my monthly newsletter AND 20% off your first purchase. Don’t procrastinate – it’s not good for you ;)
Thank you for an amazing two years!
From my heart to yours.
I have always been a reflective, intuitive, sentimental and spiritual person. I routinely write down my thoughts and feelings, to try to find myself (or lose myself) in the experience I am living. Sometimes, though, the best words are someone else's. It is powerful to find a message that seamlessly describes your state of mind at a point in time. Life's lessons are precious to me, and I have increasingly enjoyed finding quotes and creating quotes that bring solace and inspiration.
Once a week on Instagram, I post a quote that inspires me or share a little bit of my own "wisdom". Sometimes I do this in a caption, sometimes I create an image for it. Sometimes the photographs are those that are part of my collection, while other times they are personal photographs that are not in my shop. There is a little bit of magic in how the words find the image, and vice versa. It's not an exact science of what inspires what...but the end result is a touch of #sundaywisdom.
You can also find my "Today's motto" series on my Pinterest channel. I'd love to connect and to know which mantras inspire you.
From my heart to yours.
Sometimes waking up to snow feels like a little bit of magic; your view was transformed while you were sleeping, and everything is so pretty, you can't stop staring.
The holidays this year have been long and more relaxing than I could ever remember. Usually, I pack my vacation time with things to do and places to see, as if I am a tourist in my own city, fueled by the desire not to miss out on any events or winter scenes. This year, my only priority was to spend quality time with loved-ones and quality time with myself and my home. I removed my watch (not by choice, admittedly, as the strap snapped in two) and distanced myself from my phone by at least one room. I hosted dinner parties but mostly took it easy - reading, thinking, dreaming, cooking, watching movies, playing with my kitten and watching the snow fall.
Waking up without an alarm and to the sight of snow made the day start off in a beautifully cozy way. I'd make pancakes, bury them in sugar and prioritize feeling content and warm.
Life's blessings are often in the simplest things.
I love color and sunshine, and can't live without either. I love to cook, to try new recipes, to forget them and to try them again for the second first time. I love how food and wine can make you breathe differently for a moment in time. I am a scientist by training; I study the brain but listen to the heart. I fill notebooks to the brim with no respect for lines or margins. I love to laugh, because fits of laughter are good for the soul, and for the abs. I put my heart into everything I do. I don't always understand trends, or categories, or barriers, but am aware of what I love, what I don't, what I see through and what I hold true. I'm hoping that that's enough to earn my place in this world. Veni Etiam is a Latin phrase that means "return". No place is ever the same - and neither are we - and that's the beauty of returning. It's my ode to all the places I've dropped an anchor, all the little fragments that make me whole. Thank you for being here. I hope you'll find something big or small to inspire you. From my heart to yours, Kristina I prefer to think of them as ‘wishes’ rather than ‘resolutions’. It feels more like something that comes from the heart than from the head. It also leaves more room for that awful thing we call unpredictability. Resolutions are beautiful but they are like plans, and we all know sometimes life gets in the way of our plans. Wishes are more like something we cast upon the stars and hope for. And hope is a beautiful sentiment to hold in the palm of your hand as you start a new year. In thinking up my wishes and hopes for 2017, I tried a new strategy. After all, strategies sometimes make putting pen to paper less daunting, especially in cases where the pen is tapping into your innermost thoughts. I divided my blank page into three sections, each bearing a different title: - What I love and wish to continue - What I want more of - What I want less of or need to let go of I had a little bit of fear in me – the kind of anxiety that always plays in my chest in these transition periods, where pressure looms to set lofty goals that you are always a little afraid not to reach. A new year and a blank page – both bring about the same kind of slightly unsettling feeling. I took a sip of hot chocolate and set my pen to the page. From then, I lifted it only when I lifted my eyes, to look around me though only seeing what I wanted to write when I set the pen back down. What I love and wish to continue in 2017. I love the life I have created for myself, the peace that my everyday space brings. My home is my sanctuary. It feels like a little haven that I am protective of, one that I hope will also protect me. I wish to feel true peace in small ounces, when I least expect to feel it, like when I make my morning cappuccino, watch the sunlight seep in, create something scrumptious in the kitchen, or tend to my quiet urban garden. I wish to continue with the conviction I had in 2016 that what comes first is what I crave to do and be, not in an entirely selfish way -- because often what I crave to do is to love and help others - but in a way that feels intrinsic and balanced. What I treasure and wish to carry over into the new year is love, connections, travel, generosity, music, creativity, productivity, ideas, laughter and daily inspiration. What I want more of in 2017. I want to breathe more deeply and more often. It sounds crazy, but so often I catch myself actually holding my breath when I am doing something physically or mentally exerting! I’d also like to smile more when I am alone. I smile plenty with others, but smiling in one’s own space is more representative of one’s peace and quietude and, who knows, it may even attract more of those good vibes. I’d like to be more confident more often – rather than feeling waves of confidence interspersed with self-doubt. I wish to feel more acceptance and patience in the face of high tides, open questions and twists of fate I don’t understand. I am already grateful for having identified these “resolutions”, and can feel myself consciously changing the word “want to” to “will”. What I want less of or need to let go of in 2017. I wish to let go more regularly of any negativity. I wish to stop myself before (or at least mid-way) through any unnecessary complaining or negative self-talk in 2017, and to feel truly trusting of my decisions, no matter the reactions of others or the little voice in my head that just likes to cause trouble. I want to let go of the fear of life’s unknowns that sometimes freezes my decisions or steals my peaceful sleep. In any way, big or small, I don’t want to do anything I don’t want to do, or be anything I don’t want to be. Once these wishes were on paper, I felt bolder and braver. I wrote down a header called “goals”. These were goals for my life, my health and wellness, my scientific career and my business, in terms of milestones I wish to achieve but also feelings I want to have in all those areas. When looking at my seemingly chaotic list of goals interspersed with feelings, I suddenly realized something that I think it took me this whole year to come to terms with: that the success of a year is not only measurable in milestones, but also in feelings. Personal growth is hard to quantify and, quite frankly, even hard to notice. The sentence “that was the year I…” does not always need to end with a milestone, a trip, or an event that marked it, but can also be completed with a realization or a feeling – a tiny breakthrough in personal growth. Before disconnecting the pen from the heart, I wrote down a last header: “My 3 words for 2017” – a strategy that was inspired by a lovely soul named Alex Beadon. Three words I wish my actions, decisions, thoughts and feelings to embody this year. Abundance. Passion. Peace. What doesn’t fit these themes, doesn’t fit my year. I flipped to previous pages in my notebook and at what I had written in my 3 sections, in handwriting that had grown messier (thus more hurried and assertive) on each page. Those 3 words gracefully summarized all those wishes. I put my pen down, satisfied and excited about the content of those pages, but still feeling that little bit of anxiety about a year that’s new and a ‘me’ that’s unwritten.
No one knows what the year will bring, what winds we’ll weather, what new places we’ll see, who we’ll meet and who we may lose, what we will achieve, what we will regret, how often we’ll feel pain, how often we’ll think to ourselves, “I am happy right now”. It’s a crazy process, Life. It pushes and pulls and hurts and heals. My biggest wish is to look back at the end of the year and to feel peaceful about the now and hopeful about the future. And I wish the same for all of you! Happy New Year, from my heart to yours. “Bloom where you are planted”. A known saying - one that I grew up hearing, mostly in my Mom’s voice, until eventually the voice in my head took to the happy habit of echoing hers. It is possibly one of the reasons why I have a natural inclination to make any space “mine” – to give it my touch, a smidgen of magic, so that it inspires me in return and so that I could bloom. The tiniest or darkest office space during my PhD years, the smallest Milanese studio where the cupboard for my clothes was actually larger than my kitchen, each room of each home I’ve had in Montreal – it has always been my mission for the space to reflect my mind, my loves, my mood and my story. When my first Montreal apartment began to burst at the seams, I set out on a long search for a new space to call home. It would have to be home for Veni Etiam as well – as she expanded, my first palazzo was no longer apt for her burgeoning dreams and growing wings. I dreamed of a room where I could write, create, daydream and be. A room where I could work on science and work on art, where I could leave a mess on my desk for a day or two, without it encumbering my dining space or being in the face of visitors. I dreamed of a space with wonderful light, with space for stock and bookshelves and mementos. After two years of searching for a new home I’d have a chance to love as much as my previous one, I found it… and with it, this space that had so much potential that it instantly won my heart. I call it “Adriatica”, after my favorite Sea. I dreamed up a décor that would be partly industrial, to reflect my current taste, and partly nautical, to reflect my love of the Sea and all things maritime. The influence of the Sea The color palette is maritime; I chose dark blue and light grey for the walls, and white for the brick. Many accents are turquoise and white. The shelves of the industrial bookcase look like rustic boats you would find in an Italian port town – boats whose colors have been lovingly eaten away by the saltwater and sun. Maritime accents picked up on travels fair well with memorabilia. My own favorite nautical photographs – Barcarolle, Malinconia, Pescatore, La Barca Blu, Adriatica and Plentzia – stare back at me and remind me to always follow the sea breeze and my dreams. This room is actually an extension of the house and I refused to replace the original door. Instead, it was sanded (imperfectly) and painted (imperfectly) and I call it my old boat door. Two halves co-exist If you have read a little about me, you may know that my professional background is rooted in science. For many (long) years, I studied psychology, clinical linguistics and neuroscience. My research looks at how we acquire languages and how our brain changes as we learn and forget them. Fun fact: Veni Etiam was born while I was pursuing my PhD (and no, not necessarily out of procrastination!). I have always believed that both these halves – my scientific half and my creative half – co-exist in a way that one fuels the other. Both are needed to feel fully “me”. And so, my space needed to reflect just that, with a desk for each passion, and an inspiration wall across from an achievement wall. Of course, I don’t believe in lines and borders and mutual exclusivity, so one space spills into the other and I happily embrace that. The diplomas, for example, are interspersed with photography and maps of cities I lived in during my studies. My "thinking chair" is used for brainstorming and writing about both science and art. The Inspiration Wall Almost a year after having moved in, I started to dream up my inspiration wall – a gallery wall whose purpose was to recenter and inspire me every time my eyes land on it from either one of my desks. The perfect remedy for nostalgia, melancholy, writer’s block or self-doubt – a wall that reminds you of your favorite places, people and mottos. An ode to you, past, present and future. Adriatica is a sense of self reflected in a space. It is also a work in progress – a collection that grows as I do. It is a true blessing to have this space, to spend time in it, to get to know its light, its seasons, its feel and its quirks. We design our spaces as we design our lives. We are blessed to have choices, tastes and a creative vision. I wish for all of us that we feel at peace wherever we go, that we bring peace to whatever space we find ourselves in, that we are always ourselves, and that we are always grateful.
Venice is moody – in the ebb and flow of her light, her tides, her seasons, her crowds…in that way only she can be resplendent and decaying in the very same moment. And what I have noticed is that, by listening to her, truly letting her seep into you, Venice makes you moody too. If you are in tune with Venice, her melancholy is contagious. Before you know it, you are carried into her rhythm and reverie. If you are alone with her, with no one by your side to drown out those sensations with conversations, it is all the more dramatic. You breathe differently. Your pace changes. Your thoughts come from your heart. You may even feel wrapped in a dreamlike stupor as you walk, and walk, and walk, up bridges, down bridges, pausing, watching, feeling. Your senses are heightened and every slight occurrence has an effect on you, like it is with a person you are deeply infatuated with and feel deeply connected to. And what is it? It is beyond reason. It is melancholy. It is nostalgia. It is the effect of the lagoon air. It is special. I have always preferred to be alone in Venice. It sounds extreme, but I feel as though no one can compare to her company. She pulls you to unknown areas, quiet streets, obscure canals, uncrossed bridges. And you let her. You let her take your arm and pull. And that is how you end up walking through parts of the city you’ve never walked through before – parts of the city you’re unsure to ever find again. You walk for hours, not speaking for hours. Just looking, listening and feeling Venice’s mood on yours... From my heart to yours. |
Kristina KasparianThanks for stopping by! #OnTheBlog are the stories behind my prints, posts about my travels, glimpses into my daily life, news about my shop, events in the Montreal community and tips on travel, home and photography. Categories
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