In recent years I’ve grown to love creating at a slower pace. Not always. Not every day. But when I do manage it, it feels really good.
Honestly? Online everything looks dramatic, exclusive—like something’s happening to everyone non‑stop. Maybe I sometimes give that impression too. But if it were really like that I’d probably have had a seizure by now. And yes, I do love running at 300 RPM!
That’s why I value even more the days when I feel I’m actually breathing. When I move slowly. When I can blend colours without pressure. Then I know that less really does mean more. You need both — the days when everything goes wrong and the ones when everything clicks. Only then do you know the difference. Mind‑blowing, right? 😛
A morning for slowness
My day starts early — somewhere between six and seven. My husband and I brew Turkish coffee with cardamom and cinnamon. It’s not just caffeine; it’s a ritual. First contact with myself. With the day.
Then we head up a nearby hill—or each to our own gym. Some movement before the work part begins.
Breakfast (and everything else)
I take breakfast seriously. Snacks, lunch, dinner too. But breakfast has a special place—first favourite. After that comes the operational part of the day: emails, admin, packing, social posts, photographing products and materials. Somewhere in between I make another coffee. With cinnamon, of course.
Time to create
After lunch my time arrives — painting time. That’s when I switch off the phone. If it rings, I don’t pick up. Even if it’s the mother‑in‑law. Even if they’re offering me a free cruise. I paint.
That’s my quiet: a space where nothing has to be productive. Just mine.
Afternoon at the kitchen table
When the kids get back from school everything shifts up a gear. We sit together at the table. They do schoolwork. I paint. In between we shout—they at each other, me at them. I tell them to stop poking one another. They ignore me. I paint.
And yes, somewhere in there there was also a snack. Obviously.
Evening, you know
We have dinner together. We squabble a bit more — still loving each other. They spread too much jam on the bread; I tell them not to wipe their hands on their trousers. Classic.
Sometimes I go back to work if something needs packing. Other times I go for a walk with my husband. Nothing special. Super easy. Well… at least when it is.
My reminder – maybe yours too
You don’t need everything figured out before you start. One lap on foot. One good coffee. One break from the phone. Whatever gives you breathing space.
You don’t need a slow life all the time. Just now and then — to remember how it feels. So you can return to it when you’re breathless again.
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