There are cities you visit with a list, and cities that teach you to put the list away. Lisbon was the second kind.
I arrived with a notebook full of addresses. By the end of the first morning, I was following colour instead: cobalt tiles around a doorway, a lemon-yellow tram disappearing uphill, hand-painted letters fading above a grocery shop.
Looking slowly
The best discoveries happened when I stopped trying to collect everything. A café sign with one beautifully awkward letter. A doorstep repaired with a piece of stone that did not quite match. A tiny table placed exactly where the afternoon sun would find it.
These details were not polished, but they felt considered. They reminded me that personality often lives in the choices that are slightly imperfect.
Good work does not always ask for attention. Sometimes it simply rewards it.
What I brought home
I came back with fewer photographs than expected and more ideas than I could fit in my bag. Three of them have stayed with me:
- Repetition becomes interesting when one piece breaks the rhythm.
- A limited palette can still feel generous.
- Useful things deserve beauty too.
I am trying to carry that spirit into my current work: fewer ingredients, closer attention, and a little more room for surprise.