Budapest filled me this month. I stood in front of 150 years of Hungarian painters seeing their city. Vaszary's summer joy made me want to dress better. I left and bought a new dress. Then I went to Lukács. Platán trees older than anyone remembers. Thermal water. Old stone. And the particular rhythm of a city that feels like home even when it's noisy. Budapest doesn't slow down. But it has a pace I recognise in my bones. That's something different. I've been thinking about how inspiration doesn't always arrive in the studio. Sometimes it arrives in a gallery. Sometimes in thermal water. Sometimes in the colour of a dress you weren't looking for. Where did inspiration find you recently? I'd love to know.

There's a particular kind of noticing that only happens when you're not rushing anywhere. A scent you couldn't name but somehow recognise. The way a shadow falls differently in the afternoon. The small tightness you've been carrying in your shoulders without knowing it. Someone's face you actually see for a moment, instead of just passing. Slowing down doesn't feel productive. But it's where everything interesting begins, in the studio and outside of it. This week I've been thinking about how the same quality of attention that makes a painting alive is the one we practice in ordinary moments. You don't have to be standing in front of a canvas to start. What's one small thing you noticed today that you might usually walk past?

I spent the last few days exploring Polish castles and rivers—and came back with a head full of images and colour. Moszna Castle especially. 365 rooms, 99 towers. Fairytale doesn't cover it. It reminded me why we need beauty. Why we seek it out. Why it feeds everything we create. What have YOU been creating lately? Share a photo, a few words, or just the feeling of it. Finished or in-progress—both welcome.

This week I walked through a forest where everything seemed impossibly green. The birds were singing overhead. A stream ran beside the path. The leaves glowed in the soft light. For a while, there was nowhere to rush to and nothing to solve. Just green. Today's invitation: Take a few quiet minutes and remember a place in nature that makes you feel alive. It might be a forest, a garden, a beach, a mountain path, or even a single tree you love. In your journal, write a few words about what you see, hear, smell, and feel there. Then add colour. Not what the place looks like, but what it feels like. I'd love to hear where your mind wanders today. ☕ And a warm welcome to our newest members—so glad you're here. 💛

Hello everyone in the group. I'm so happy to be here! My name is Beatrix Revhelyi but my friends call me Lily. I have a loving husband and two adult children. I consider myself an explorer and a curious soul. I live in Hungary, near the capital in a house with a small garden. I'm creating since my childhood and I have always been curious about all kinds of creative activities. I beaded, embroidered, enameled, painted, molded, tried cardmaking, scrapbooking ... and I can't stop discovering new things. I also have been writing a diary since I was a teenager. Nowadays I have several diaries (one "main", and a memory planner with pictures about our lives, a tea diary, a junkie one, if we travel then I create a travel journal about the trip and I also have some art journals). Nowadays I am also interested in urban sketching and outdoor painting - but a bit scared of it. Why am I here? I dont know, it was just a callin', I registered on the skool platform and was searching for creative places. I love tea and art so I was thinking this could be my place to be with kind people. So nice to meet You! Hugs! 🌞 You can find me on Instagram also, but I'm not sure if insta profile links allowed here.