Nomad Diaries: the first month as a nomad. San Miguel, Azores
On the chilly morning of October 1st, 2021 we closed the door of our one-bedroom apartment in Brooklyn, jumped in a car, and drove all the way to Boston to board a flight to the Azores. Something that started as a wild idea during a vacation in Spain a few years ago was unfolding in front of us.
The global pandemic forced the whole world to rethink the way we live, work and think… Everything turned upside down in a matter of weeks. I was watching people throwing their belongings into moving trucks as an exodus of New Yorkers was becoming a daily norm.
I started developing a burning desire to escape the city, to find a home with a piece of land that would allow us to break free from the confines of our apartment. I craved nature. It felt like this was the time to do what we’ve been talking about for the last couple of years - to move outside the city to a quieter place. We started looking at houses, but it didn’t feel right for some reason. Deep inside I knew that acting from the state of fear wasn’t the best way to live our lives, especially when it comes to something like purchasing a house.
I remember the day when my husband said that his company allowed him to work remotely from Europe. He asked me if becoming nomads for a year would be something that we’d potentially want to explore. Being able to travel, to experience the places we love at a slower pace felt like a dream. So, we decided to postpone moving to the suburbs and opted to explore the world instead.
It has been a few months now for us, living out of the suitcases, working remotely, moving from place to place like feathers in the wind. I even have a separate suitcase packed with the most essential art materials which I now call my travel studio.
This blog post is the first in a series of posts where I’ll be sharing how it feels to be a nomad. I’m not sure yet about the structure of my writing, but I want to document it while the memories are still fresh in my mind.
Here are some thoughts that I wrote down in my diary after spending a month on Sao Miguel, an island in the Azores Archipelago in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean.
⁃ Slowing down is a process - it takes time to dismantle old habits and conditioning of always being on the go (aka being a New Yorker). Staring at the ocean or swaying trees for half an hour isn’t a waste of time as my mind was trying to convince me at first, it’s a gift of enjoying our precious life. Drinking my coffee slowly, eating food with pleasure while savoring each piece. Moving without an unnecessary chase brought calm to my scattered mind.
⁃ I felt content living with just a few pieces of clothing, wearing pretty much the same outfits over and over again. The world didn’t collapse. But there were a few moments where I did miss dressing up.
⁃ It’s quite challenging to enter work mode when you’re on an island which looks like a shot from Jurassic Park. There’s a very thin balance between feeling like you’re on vacation and being a nomad who works while being in a place where people usually go on vacation. The desire to surrender to exploration is huge! The realization that we’re staying there for the whole month helped to calm down the FOMO. We explored at our own pace. It felt amazing to jump in a car during lunchtime and drive 10 min to take a walk in the nearby forest or spend the sunset on a beach. Our Airbnb was surrounded by a tropical garden and stunning ocean views. Our breaks also consisted of swaying in a hammock, walking through the green maze of the garden, finding ripe guavas, discovering new flowers and plants almost every day…
⁃ I can paint pretty much any picture with just a few brushes, so I didn’t have to pack 20… I quickly realized that I definitely overpacked a bit in the art supply department.
⁃ Missing our super comfortable king-size bed and mattress. European beds are usually smaller, so we ended up sleeping in separate rooms. There was something royal about saying: I’ll go to my bedroom :)
⁃ We adapted to the new place quite fast, creating everyday rituals that helped us feel at home. I noticed that setting up a studio corner made me feel grounded right away.
⁃ I miss our family and friends, and I miss our cats. It takes some planning to connect when we’re separated by the myriad of time zones. Sometimes it feels like we are living in a parallel universe.
⁃ I had a strong desire to go introverted, to soak in the new world around me, not wanting to share much. I remember literally forcing myself to post on Instagram a few days after we arrived. Living, experiencing, feeling the present moment became more important than sharing it on social media right away.
⁃ Being so close to nature felt like coming back home. My whole being craved this after spending many months mostly locked in a one-bedroom apartment in Brooklyn. San Miguel Island looks like those pictures from the National Geographic that you see and wonder if places like this are even real. We lived in a house surrounded by a big tropical garden and a pineapple farm. We hiked primeval forests, climbed steep hills to reach volcanic lakes, stood on top of the mountains seeing how the ocean blends with the horizon, swam in thermal springs in the middle of a lush jungle. Nature is a magical healer for the body and soul. It felt so good to be immersed in it from head to toe every single day.
⁃ I realized how much I enjoy painting in the depth of a forest, being one on one with nature. There’s unspeakable calm in this solitude. The energy of the bamboo singing in the wind, wild birds curiously sneaking all around, new sounds, the sweet scents of damp vegetation. I clearly remember the overwhelming feeling of being the happiest in that very moment, just being able to paint this magical place the way I feel it. I took my paints to the wildest places, I hiked to a volcanic lagoon to make it my studio for a day, carrying my wet canvas while climbing back up.
⁃ I swam in the ocean for the first time in many years, feeling my body being gently held by the giant body of water I admire so much.
⁃ I saw plants and trees that I’ve never seen before, their colors, texture, and shapes penetrated my memory, soaking through my paintings through and through.
⁃ I forgot the last time I heard police sirens or a loud scream of a firetruck. Ocean waves, birds, distant cows, and leaves swaying in the wind were the soundtrack of our island days.
⁃ I discovered that there’s such a thing as slugs. It’s funny how snails and slugs are quite similar in appearance, but snails look cute and slugs (I used to call them homeless snails) terrified the hell out of me. Having little creatures constantly getting into the house taught me to accept all the parts of being in nature, and I made sure to always wear slippers.
⁃ There were times when I felt sad without a particular reason. My mind was telling me that I couldn’t feel that way while being in paradise, living the life many only dream about. But life consists of many colors, so I swam in the bright and dark ones from time to time, surrendering to the full spectrum of my emotions. Allowing myself to accept all those feelings wasn’t easy. It’s another process that I’m going through one step at a time.
⁃ Some days I missed the convenience of having a physical home. I’m pretty sure that there will be a time I’ll be homesick. But for now, it’s more like a little itch somewhere deep inside.
⁃ Being stripped of the familiar surroundings and routines evoked a deeper journey within. No matter where I go, I take myself with me everywhere. And I now realize that If I’m not satisfied with myself, no magical surroundings will fix it. It might provide temporary aid, but it isn’t something that will last. This trip has really been teaching me to tune into myself better on so many levels, seeing if there’s any tension or pressure that influences the way I feel without me even realizing it.
