The Art of Noticing

Lately, I’ve been trying to notice more. Noticing what feels soft. What smells good. What catches the light.

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Life has been moving in two very different speeds at once—big shifts rushing in (a ten-year relationship ending, moving countries, restarting my business), while full-time baby care slows everything down to a gentle crawl.

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It’s easy to feel pulled in too many directions at once. But I’ve found that noticing—truly paying attention—has become its own kind of creative act. A way of staying close to myself when everything else feels unsteady.

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So I started writing those moments down. Nothing big. Just small flashes of beauty, comfort, texture, or warmth. The kind of details that slip by unless you’re looking for them.

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Here are some of the things I’ve noticed lately, while moving through Rotterdam, Mallorca, and Amsterdam:

The weight of my baby asleep on my chest

Fingers stained purple from fresh blackberries

Bougainvillea draping itself over old stone walls

Sunlight dancing on the kitchen floor

The snap of a fresh baguette crust breaking

Crushed basil leaves releasing their sharp scent

The feeling of paint meeting canvas

Sliced figs dripping honeyed sweetness

A freshly fluffed pillow

A sweet voice note from a friend

Warm cinnamon rolls, fresh from the oven

Candlelight flickering against walls at dinner

My baby’s sweet laughter

Avocado so perfectly ripe it spreads like butter

Wildflowers in a café vase

Coconut oil warming on skin

Kids chasing each other barefoot

The smell of sunscreen and saltwater on warm skin

Fairy lights tangled in a tree

My baby’s eyes lighting up at my voice

Peaches so ripe the juice runs down your arms

Ocean waves glittering like scattered diamonds

The hush of palm trees in early morning wind

Doing something for yourself after putting the baby down

A stranger smiling in passing

The sharp scent of freshly cut grass

A bowl of cherries, stems still on

Birdsong just before sunrise

Ginger sharpness in a hot cup of tea

Freshly ground coffee beans in the morning

Warm bread still steaming when torn open

Soft breath in post-yoga stillness

Ice clinking in a cold glass on a hot day

A cozy sweater hugging cold arms

The look my baby gives me when he’s half-asleep but smiling

The sound of café plates and quiet chatter

Salty ocean smell

The way my baby’s tiny fingers wrap around mine

Sunbeam warmth on my face

Curtains lifting in the breeze

Little bubbles rising in a wine glass

A notebook full of scribbles

A breeze through an open car window

A linen dress drying in the sun

Couples weaving fingers together on evening walks

The scent of grilled lemon and rosemary

Butter melting into something warm

Clean sheets that still smell like the sun.

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Noticing is a form of making. Of remembering. Of returning to yourself.

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If something soft or beautiful came to mind while reading, feel free to share it with me—I’d love to know what you’ve been noticing lately! ❤️