NYC 2026 - Week 9

Astoria Park on a summer night

OUTRO

It’s dawning on me: my great NY adventure is in its final weeks. Four Mondays from now, I’ll be lining up my suitcases again to fly back to Belgium. My mind can’t grasp this thing we call time anymore. There has been very little structure here—a real artist's life—which makes every memory kind of blur in and out of the next. I've only been in the new apartment for three weeks, yet it seems like I’ve been here forever, almost as if the Airbnb phase never happened. Everyday life in New York feels like the weekend because there are so many things to do every single night of the week. Not that I’ve been doing crazy things in the evenings, but I have definitely been out a lot more than I would be in Belgium.

When I start writing these letters, I always begin with the intrusive thoughts. The wailing voices get a paragraph or two before I realize this is NOT what I want to send out into the world. Positivity first! Because all these negative ideas I’ve been having this morning actually aren’t even true. So, let’s start with a few small celebrations.

Number one: I’m celebrating my very first time showing my work in a park. After another Saturday of displaying things in a friend's backyard, I realized I felt I didn’t quite have my own story straight. I’ve been doing all this embroidery, and I haven't practiced conveying the message in real life. My art is a part of me, and this weekend made me realize just how vulnerable that makes me feel.

So, on Sunday morning, I turned off my phone, and mentally prepared myself to just pack up my pieces and go sit in a park. The goal was to tell my story to some complete strangers. With a backpack full of clothes, my trusty needle, and some thread, I headed out to a park in Williamsburg to find a spot to set up. When I arrived, I immediately saw other artists with the same idea at the entrance of the park. With my very technical training, calling myself an artist still feels awkward sometimes, especially that day. So, I walked in a bit further and saw another brave soul who had set up a little clothing rack next to a beautiful tree. I asked if I could join forces with her and claimed my spot by the tree, which was also perfect to hang my pieces in. A wave of motivation and courage overcame me: I’m not alone! The hardest part was already done: showing up.

The weather was incredibly beautiful: sunny with a soft breeze. I took out my embroidery work and started chatting with my new friend, who also happened to work in the textile industry as a multi-hyphenate: seamstress, prop maker, and more. I felt at ease and was so grateful she was there. We talked and talked until the first people stopped to take a look at my work. Hesitantly, I stood up. Luckily, with my background in improv, I was able to let go of the stress and perform a little "sales" talk on the spot. I managed to explain my work, hand them the card I made with my info, and just like that, the ice was broken.

By the way, it’s fascinating how New Yorkers (and Americans in general) hold conversations here. They are so polite, so fast. Within minutes, everyone has exchanged compliments, figured out if they're a "transplant" or not, and shared in which part of the city they currently live in. For a girl who is more introverted and afraid of saying too much, I can only admire this way of communicating. However, it can also become a bit exhausting at times, especially when the social battery is low. My instinct is always to think: I need to change and become more like this! But no—I’ll try harder to just let myself be me, and find a way to communicate in a way that works for my own pace.

The day ended with a total of four small groups of people coming up to ask me about my work. This experience definitely gave me the motivation to go out there again and keep practicing. Just like in this setting: low-key, chitchatting, and enjoying embroidery in a beautiful park.

Fire on the block

PURE SATISFACTION

Last week, I did my best to give myself some structure again. I got up at 7 every morning, went for a run a few times, made myself breakfast, and went to the nearest coffee bar to work on my socials and other laptop stuff. After doing this on Friday, Juneteenth, I decided to head out to Brooklyn with my camera. It was a national holiday, and you could sense that the city was enjoying the first official weekend of summer. My journey started with some sad news, as a little church, built somewhere in the mid-1800s, was on fire right at the end of my street. Since housing is such a delicate thing here in New York, I've learned this week just how vicious companies can get when trying to milk the properties they own. They put people in apartments and studios that are falling apart, while still collecting rent that is way above what the property is actually worth. When everybody wants a piece of the cake, this is unfortunately a tough thing to battle. The church was so old and hardly anyone was using it, so to make space to build new buildings, it’s very likely that this was a setup.

After witnessing an army of firemen taming the fire, I headed out to Bed-Stuy. Herbert Von King Park was yet again the place to be. The heart of the Black community came together to celebrate Juneteenth, a national holiday that only got its real recognition after Covid, and a day to remember the end of slavery. Since my first time coming to Bed-Stuy, I have fallen in love with the Black community. There is (he)art in everything they do. There is fun, love, music, good vibes, and real energy whenever I walk into a Black-owned event, shop, bar, or restaurant. So learning about this day gave me more insight into the journey that community has gone through. And I’m grateful to have witnessed this from up close.

As I wrote in a previous newsletter, I had the desire to start photographing people while on this journey, and not only buildings or parts of the streets. This day was the perfect day to try this out. I could blend into the crowd, observe from a distance, and take a shot without violating someone's space (because that is the thought that comes to mind whenever I want to take a picture of someone). Here, people love it. And I love it too! The light was so perfect. The colours were so vibrant. The energy was up, and after having taken some pictures of my friends with my pieces, I felt brave enough to call myself a photographer for the day.

I had SO much fun. I felt so freaking energized; I cycled back to my place after the sun set while loudly singing a Whitney Houston song and screaming ‘I LOVE THIS PLACE’ in between the lyrics. So, is this the part where I can call myself a ‘New York multi-hyphenate’ too?

Backyard Market by IvyHouse

NOW WHAT?

There is still this little critical voice inside my head saying: “You haven’t done enough while being here.” It’s the voice that is also sad to go back home. I know there are still three weeks on the clock, but some things just seem to have crossed my path that I’m still very eager to explore. It’s going to be over before I know it, and I still haven’t found an anchor to hold me down here for a longer time. Even so, I’m taking action—I’m informing myself about the practicalities, and I’m looking for the right contacts. I know I will never get enough of this place, even though I can also feel frustrated sometimes about the pace of the city and the way it occasionally doesn’t allow you to do what you want, while at the same time demanding that you know exactly what you want. It's difficult sometimes, when you have the feeling that you just want it all! But no, that is the voice of greed, the seed of my scarcity mindset. The part of me that is scared that it will end, and the one that is already preparing itself for the hard landing that is going to happen upon returning to Europe.

So maybe that is my main goal for the final weeks: get clearer on what I want in life. Make this a specifically written dream to try and manifest. To make the faith and trust that this is meant for me so incredibly strong that nothing can stop me from reaching this goal. To reach a point where I feel even stronger in saying no to the things that I don’t want, clearing the way so whatever is meant for me will find me. And to also realize that the end of this trip doesn’t mean I’ll have to start all over again. It’ll just be another test to see if, and how much, I really want what I want.

With love,

Naomi/Numi