FIELD TRIP: NAXOS, GREECE
FEBRUARY 2026
By Allie Beckwith
Do you ever get a glimpse of the future of the life you're living and have a gut reaction that something needs interupting? Well mine led me to Greece. And at one point during one of our many chats about this I said the words to Justin “Well I’m going even if you’re not” that’s how strongly I felt about interrupting my current CYCLE. To be honest I can’t really put it into words other than it was a pull I needed to follow. I made a vow to myself that I would be following my intuition this year and I will admit sometimes she seems impractical. But she’s been proven right time & time again. And I’m done doubting her. There are a few scenarios that have played out in my life from these kinds of reactions, and I admire how quickly my younger self used to act on thEM. Only in hindsight I’ve realized how they were all very pivotal times in my life. Also in hindsight that I’ve been unknowingly self harnessing them these past few years.
Greece was an escape of sorts, but not necessarily the type of Greek summer most long for of jumping off cliffs and drinking mimosas on a patio. This was Naxos, off season, isolated, and the peak of her windy season. It was a ticket in time to be deposited onto a tiny spot on the globe and observe our unfamiliar surroundings. It felt invigorating, terrifying, exciting and that what was coming through me was only the beginning.
It showed me that my patterns do need to be interrupted. That I am quite literally obsessed with sitting put and putting pen to paper to what I see around me, no matter what I am looking at. I find it interesting, exciting, and my ideal way of passing my time here on this planet.
I loved watching the patterns of the ferry crossings, through calm seas and angry. I loved noticing each night that she’d pass and the evening light was lighter and lighter. I loved watching the sun flood our rental with gold once per day and tried to make sure I was back home to catch it each day.
I loved noticing and finding examples over and over again of how purple was prevalent in shadows at certain times of day. And how in the morning, the island of Paros across the way, was so multidimensional that I could feel the depth. And how each evening she reversed back into a mass of grey, flat, then navy, until the sun woke her up again tomorrow.
I loved seeing the locals I could count on one hand in the surrounding residences. The ones that stay year round and the ones who care for the stray cats. I loved going by the construction sites each day to see the progress that the boys made that day, knocking down, and rebuilding block by block, then stucco. Then paint. Usually white.
I loved how we a little clumsily fell into our own routine of dropping off our clothes at the laundry mat before their daily 2pm closing time. And reflecting that while our laundry situation at home is a vision I’m excited to exicute, the one we have is nicely in house. I loved the experience of daydreaming of a bakery off the beaten path we fell into in 2023, and setting out to find it while we were there this time. The first bite was in fact as good as I was dreaming about, and it was another small tick of validation.
I loved that Justin and I both noticed in the matter of minutes of each other when we could hear the wind die down outside and look at each other with a nod and head out for the terrace.
Dropping myself in a situation with the sole expectation I put on myself of creating whatever I felt called to create was an experiment. An experiment to trust my own eye, not a reference photo from an experience of a collector I’ve never met that lives across the country. Just me, my eye, and the collected canvas and frames Justin was improvising to build from discarded wooden pallets on the side of the road, as all of the hardware stores closed early.
I loved seeing the locals I could count on one hand in the surrounding residences. The ones that stay year round and the ones who care for the stray cats. I loved going by the construction sites each day to see the progress that the boys had made that day, knocking down, and rebuilding block by block, then stucco. Then paint. Usually white.
