“I want to travel and paint around the world”. Dreams are ideas waiting for us to start doing stuff that will eventually look like a plan. Some years ago I decided to experiment and moved abroad, 20.000 km away from all I knew. So much to do, and so little idea how. I had already detached from everything I knew and loved, so I’d better make the most out of it. That is a strong motivation. I painted as much as I could, went out to meet new people, spent countless hours in the computer doing research. Working to figure out how to work. After 5 years in Europe, when I was starting to get the hang of it, I moved to North America, a new corner of the world.
People often ask me about this journey. My answers are usually messy because there is no single formula or turning point. The truth is, big organizations, major art features, even dream opportunities did not transform my life overnight. The real change came from shifting how I think and how I approach the unknown. So here are some thoughts:
Instability
When I was in my office job, I used to dream of free time to make art. But when I finally had that time, I realized how much of it was consumed by uncertainty, by not knowing what to do or how to do it. I had to learn to accept feeling lost as part of the process. Whenever I hit bottom, I remind myself this was my choice. If I cannot deal with it, I can always go back.
On your own
Travelling sounds great, yet you also leave behind your dear ones and the environment you know. You have to adapt to the idea of being “gone”. Feeling alienated, dealing with the unpredictable, vulnerable. But by this, you get to know yourself better, which is priceless. Being comfortable with yourself makes you a bit less demanding and more able to enjoy simple moments.
Fresh approach
In any new country or community, assuming you already know how things work usually leads to disappointment. You can resist, longing for the familiar, or stay quiet, observe, and learn. You may find new ways of living that you end up loving, and wonder how you did without them for so long.
Now, when I travel for a mural project, all of this comes together: a street artist alone in a foreign place, with a job that invites uncertainty. It is a peculiar state of mind: a clear head ready for things to go wrong, and an open heart ready to connect with strangers. The big picture feels irrelevant; the tiny discoveries along the way matter more. Everything, good or bad, passes, so you might as well pay attention.
Some of my most satisfying experiences happened when I let go of the plan completely: asking for directions to buy soymilk and finding myself embroidering with a circle of elderly women in China, or learning bachata from a Russian neighbor simply because his two parrots sparked a conversation that led us to a dance saloon. You cannot plan these things. To unlock those secret levels, you have to get lost first.
It never gets easier. Some days feel like the floor has been pulled out from under me. Other days I am unsure whether I am happy, sad, or both. Behind the bright colors of my work, life is often loud and uncertain. But doubt is not the enemy. Approaching the world like a beginner keeps everything alive, as if it is waiting to be discovered.