Note: The text below is the transcript of the YouTube video above.
During my travels, I met a French poet at the church next to Picasso’s last house, and he taught me something that I’d been missing in my busy life. This is the story of my month in Le Cannet.
I’d just left my full-time job in London without any clear plan. I was excited but scared at the same time – just this one-way ticket to the South of France and a strong feeling that I needed to change everything.
Hi everyone, I’m Satomi, a Japanese artist based in London. This video isn’t just about the places I visited in Le Cannet and Cannes – it’s also about my personal feelings and experiences during that month.
I wanted to share this with those of you who might be trying to start a new chapter in your life, or trying to find yourself again after busy, hectic days.
If you want to see more travel details, I’ve created a curated guide featuring the places that inspired me – check it out in the description below.
So I got in a taxi in Saint-Paul-de-Vence and was heading to this town called Le Cannet, just above Cannes.
I hadn’t stayed long in Nice and Saint-Paul-de-Vence, so I was really looking forward to somewhere I could properly settle and focus. I was at this pivotal point after quitting my full-time job in London and needed time to figure out what direction I wanted to take next. I I was seeking a place with genuine French character – not polished, not modernised.
When I found this centuries-old apartment, I was like ‘Yes – this is it! Exactly what I was looking for – a place where I could soak up that French countryside vibe I’d been craving.
What I absolutely adore about Le Cannet is how authentically French it feels. You have charming bakeries, artisanal cheese shops, lovely restaurants and cute boutiques – essentially everything you’d envision in idyllic French countryside. And Le Cannet is close to Cannes but much less busy, which was perfect for me since I wanted to focus on myself.
Soon after arriving in the South of France, my face and neck broke out in eczema. It was like my body was rejecting all this change. Like, here I am trying to start this new chapter, and my skin is literally screaming ‘NOPE, this is way too much change!’
But slowly, I started finding my rhythm. Long walks through these gorgeous, colourful streets, cooking Japanese food that I had been missing, and for the first time in forever, I had complete freedom from work commitments. It felt so weird at first – like I should be doing something more productive.
One day, I hopped on a boat to Sainte-Marguerite Island, just off Cannes. The contrast was beautiful – from the crowds in Cannes to this peaceful, untouched place.
<me speaking in Japanese on the island>
There’s another reason I picked Le Cannet – there’s this amazing museum dedicated to Pierre Bonnard. I’ve been a big fan of his work since I first saw it in London, so of course I visited the museum, and seeing how this Mediterranean light influenced his work was just incredible. I think this is what Mediterranean light does to you. I thought staying in the same town where he spent his last years painting might give me some inspiration.
In Le Cannet, I wanted to keep working on these Japanese-themed pieces – the same style I’d done for an art fair in Monaco before coming here. So I had this idea – I actually walked down to the beach in Cannes, grabbed some handfuls of sand, and brought it back to mix into my paintings. I wanted to literally mix the place into the paint.
But here’s the honest truth – I was struggling. Even in this peaceful setting, my mind kept wandering. I’d catch myself planning what’s next, worrying about my future, thinking about what I should be doing instead of just being.
I didn’t make as much art as I expected. I liked this slower pace, but I kept trying to figure out my next steps, how to sustain myself creatively and financially. With all that on my mind, there wasn’t much space left for deep work.
And every so often, I’d feel this anxiety — Am I just being lazy? I feel guilty whenever I’m not doing what society considers ‘real work.
One day, in Mougins, I met this French poet, Baptiste Santini at the church next to Picasso’s last house. We ended up having lunch together in Le Cannet, and he goes, ‘In the South of France, we take one or two hours for lunch.’ I was like, ‘No way! I never had that kind of time when I was in Japan or London.’
He gave me his poetry book with these beautiful lines like:
Scents that call back old memories: the warm offshore wind that sweeps up the gentle scent of maquis, long dried by centuries of Mediterranean sun.
His words felt like a wake-up call to be present, to notice the tiny details in everyday life that I’d overlooked in my rush through life. I could feel his sensitivity to small moments, and I realised that’s exactly what I’d been missing.
It reminded me of a Zen teaching I’d learnt – being fully present in each moment without being distracted by endless thoughts about the past or future. I’d come across these ideas in Japan before but meeting him made me feel what they might really mean.
One night, there was this massive thunderstorm. Usually, that kind of weather makes me anxious, but lying in that ancient room, I felt this unexpected sense of wonder. It reminded me of being a kid again – actually excited by the drama instead of stressed about it. I realised I was rediscovering a part of myself I’d long forgotten.
The next morning, the sun came out so strong and bright, and there were these gorgeous reflections everywhere – sunlight bouncing off all the rainwater still on the ground and trees. It was just beautiful.
When it was time to leave, I felt something I hadn’t expected. Yes, I still didn’t have all the answers about my future, but I felt more at peace with not knowing. Le Cannet had given me something more valuable than a career plan – it taught me how to find beauty in uncertainty, how to be present even when life feels chaotic.
Those moments of watching light dance on wet stones, of tasting food slowly, of painting with sand from a foreign beach – these weren’t just pretty experiences. They were reminders that life’s most meaningful moments often happen when we stop rushing and start noticing.
I realised that sometimes the best thing you can do for your future is to fully embrace your present.
In the next video, I’ll take you to Mougins and Vallauris, where my whole exploration continued. Mougins is a beautiful, artistic town where Picasso spent his final years and where he died – it has such a creative atmosphere. And Vallauris is where he worked with ceramics. If you’re staying in Nice or Cannes, I really recommend visiting these places.
If you’d like to see more of my work or current projects, everything’s on my website and Instagram. I’ve also put together a curated guide to the places that inspired me during my two-month trip around southern France — check the description below.
And I’d love to know – what’s a moment that taught you to slow down? Tell me in the comments!
Thanks for watching, and I’ll see you in the next one!
