Switzerland has a way of slowing you down without ever asking you to stop. From a train window, the Alps feel steady and unbothered, villages tucked into valleys like they’ve always known exactly where they belong. Everything moves, but nothing feels rushed.

This is where ideas tend to surface.

Not the kind that arrive fully formed, but fragments. A line of copy. A visual note. A reminder to revisit something later. When you’re moving through places like this, attention sharpens. You notice light, texture, pacing. You start thinking in frames instead of posts.

For me, those moments still start on paper.

A simple memo pad sits next to the window, pulled out between stations. Notes are quick. Imperfect. Honest. Some are sketches for future projects. Others are observations that might never turn into anything, except a better way of seeing.

That’s part of the creative process that rarely shows up online. Before campaigns, before edits, before the polished final, there’s the act of noticing. Writing things down while they’re still fragile. Letting ideas exist without pressure.

Travel reminds you that creativity doesn’t need a studio. It needs space, movement, and something reliable to catch the thought before it disappears. Between mountains, between meetings, between destinations, the work is quietly happening.

The train keeps moving. The view keeps changing. The ideas keep coming. All you have to do is be ready to write them down.