The Passionista

18.08.2025

My poem in my previous diary post about childhood really sparked something in me. Writing it I remembered who I was then and that I am still that same person.

Over the past four years, alongside the day job, I’ve been putting a lot of time into painting—a lot.

I have come across a journal I started in summer 2021, exactly four years ago while on holiday. I had forgotten it existed, but opening it I see it’s the root of all my creativity since then. It reads like a huge pep talk to myself to get me going—and it did.

I remember bringing a big bag of art materials on holiday that year in Italy. We were in a remote house in Umbria, covid was still around so apart from food shopping we kept to ourselves and stayed at the house. Looking back, it feels like a dream. It was really hot so I spent a lot of time swimming. I drew and painted in sketch books and made attempts at painting abstract on big sheets of paper. I listened to books about the law of attraction and creativity, watched artists’ tutorials on YouTube and wrote down my thoughts in my notebook.

Those words are full of energy—they are hopeful, grateful and alive. I wrote about gratitude and about things I’d liked to manifest: to have a home art studio, to go on a wellness retreat, to do an online art course, to do an art course in real life with a friend, to see beautiful places, to have a house abroad I could retreat to (I wrote “in Italy or something better, and that sure happened”), to dance, to sing, to swim in the sea, to paint, and to be unafraid. Four years later, I live a lot of that.

I also wrote that I wanted a website, and now here I am with one I built myself—something I once thought was too hard. It wasn’t easy, but I learned, and I did it.

The notebook drifts off into shopping lists, recipes, plans for dinners with friends, the usual stuff I jot down, but I found a sentence that stopped me in my tracks:

“I will be more certain because I will have decided what I like. What I focus on and what I choose on purpose will help me grow and create more of what I love.”

I also found these phrases circled, underlined, and surrounded by stars

“Step into my light.”

“I fill my precious time with my uncovered real shining self, to develop my talents and find my purpose.”

That word keeps appearing: Light

I wrote that a friend told me I was a light. So sweet and so kind.

Beneath that, I have written: Believe it!

And then I wrote “The Passionista”

Just that and nothing more.

I don’t know where it came from, but I love it. I looked it up.

A Passionista is someone who chooses to live with curiosity and enthusiasm, someone who follows the sparks.

Nothing grand or dramatic.

From my perspective, those sparks can be as small as taking photographs, sketching somewhere inspiring, singing in the car, dancing in the kitchen, having “me” time at the hairdresser’s, finding joy in planning and cooking a dinner for special people, going on a walk, watching the sunset, going to an art exhibition, putting flowers from the garden in a vase, sewing, mending, altering clothes, reading a book and underlining sentences, having conversations that linger, long lunches with a friend. These aren’t background noise—they’re fuel.

Being a Passionista doesn’t mean life is easy, far from it. It just means I’ve got a reason to keep going when the tough days come, because there’s always something I’m reaching for, something I love.

It means choosing curiosity over comfort, stretching and sometimes stumbling rather than staying stuck in neutral. And I’ve seen how passion can be contagious—how when I let myself be lit up by what I love, the people around me feel it too.

And this is why it matters. Too many of us learn to silence our spark in order to fit in or keep the peace.

Being a Passionista means letting life’s nudges guide you towards joy, creativity, and authenticity, away from burnout and conformity.

Passion doesn’t always roar. Sometimes it’s quiet and steady—a slow burn.

What matters isn’t how big your dreams look on the outside, but how alive they make you feel on the inside.

Four years ago I made an effort to notice what excites me—the moments when I lose track of time.

Now I carve out space for it and I surround myself with people who inspire me and keep my fire alive. I honour my own pace because passion isn’t a race. It’s a practice. A way of living.

Being a Passionista isn’t about having it all figured out—it’s about saying yes to what makes your spirit feel most alive.

Life is short; so let passion be your compass.

Just like when I was a child, unconsciously following the joys that made me feel alive, I follow the sparks that light me up.

The Passionista was always there inside me.

I am a Passionista.