Lately, I’ve been putting things aside.

An acorn.

A scrap of paper with an interesting edge.

A postcard I brought home from France.

A phrase scribbled on the back of something because apparently the notebook sitting three inches away was too far to reach.

A tiny envelope.

A feather.

Nothing terribly important.

And yet, for some reason, not quite throw-away-able either.

This is not particularly unusual for me. I have always been a collector of ordinary things. My pockets have carried home stones and shells and seed pods. My suitcases return from trips considerably heavier with paper. I have drawers containing bits and pieces that would cause another person to ask, quite reasonably, Why are you keeping this?

I don't always know.

I just know when something feels worth keeping.

Travel With Me: Spring 2027 Art Vacation in Switzerland

I'll be returning to a place that changed the way I travel.

One that offers quiet lakes, mountain light, graceful train journeys, and the kind of stillness that allows you to hear yourself think again.

I'm inviting a small group of fellow creatives to join me—not simply for an art workshop, but for a different way of experiencing travel.

When I was younger, I thought the best souvenirs were the ones I could tuck into my suitcase.

A hand-painted ceramic bowl from Italy.
A stack of vintage postcards from a Paris flea market.
A linen tea towel from a tiny shop whose name I've long since forgotten.

I still treasure those things. They remind me where I've been and, for a moment, transport me back to another place and time.

But over the years, I've realized the best souvenir I ever bring home isn't something I can hold in my hands.

It's the way travel changes how I see.

Some places leave an imprint on the heart.

Lake Como was one of them.

This week, I'm sharing the story of a creative journey through one of Italy's most beautiful corners—a week of ferry rides and flower-filled gardens, travel journals and Aperol Spritzes, ravioli-making and lakeside conversations.

Yet what stays with me most isn't the scenery, beautiful as it was.

It's the reminder that a meaningful life is built from moments we choose to notice.

I hope you'll pull up a chair, pour yourself something lovely, and come along with me to Lake Como.