After a long Canadian winter, +6°C feels like a real spring. It calls you outside to catch a bit of inspiration and gently kick off the season. My go-to place for that first spark is the National Gallery of Canada. A monumental grey building with glass towers catching and reflecting the light. Huge planes of pale stone, sharp lines, and silky, sparkling glass holding the sun. Right in front of the building, I cannot not mention Her. Maman by Louise Bourgeois. A delicate, gigaaaantic spider. There are several of these sculptures around the world, a whole story on its own, but here she stands holding a cluster of marble eggs beneath her. Something monumental, almost intimidating, made of metal, yet so light in presence. And somehow, it carries warmth. A sense of care. At the end of the day, she is the Mother! Inside the gallery are treasures! For this visit, my theme was as delicate as early spring. I found myself on a curious hunt for lace. Traces of it in portraits, hints in still lifes, small details you could easily miss if you weren’t looking for them. Skipping the classic questions you are supposed to ask when looking at art, I was more interested in how it was made. The size of the brush. The pressure of the hand. Whether the line was perfectly controlled or slightly trembling. Maybe even wondering if the artist had a glass of wine the night before and carried that softness into the stroke. It is in these tiny, almost invisible details that something opens up. You start seeing not just the artwork, but the person behind it. And maybe that is what this season asks of us. A softer gaze.. A longer pause with the detail.. (Just long enough before the next deadline catches up). Because the most beautiful beginnings arrive quietly, just like spring.