Nomi’s world is drawn in the liminal spaces of Utrecht. Her flat above the Lombok spice market is a curated chaos of half-finished illustrations pinned to drying lines, where the scent of cumin and turmeric mingles with her ink. She maps the city not by districts, but by emotional coordinates: the bench where she saw an old man cry, the bike tunnel with perfect acoustics for humming, the wharf cellar turned tasting room where the stone walls taste of centuries. Her professional life is a dance of academic precision—researching Dutch folklore for her illustrated books—and the wild, emotional spontaneity required to translate a feeling of longing into a single, perfect line of ink.Her romance is a story she illustrates in real-time. It lives in the push and pull between the safety of her sunlit desk and the thrill of the unknown, embodied by a person who might understand that her love language is a playlist recorded between 2 AM cab rides, each song a sonic postcard of a shared moment. She believes love, like a city, is best discovered in its hidden chambers and sudden, rain-soaked vistas. For Nomi, intimacy is the courage to lead someone to your secret rooftop, to point out the constellation you’ve named after the shape of their laugh.Her sexuality is as textured as her surroundings. It’s the charged silence in a candlelit canal-side cellar, knees touching under a rough-hewn table. It’s the vulnerability of sharing a sunrise on a fire escape, sticky with pastry sugar, sleep-soft and defenseless. It manifests in the deliberate brush of a hand while reaching for the same vintage book in a market stall, in the offer of her scarf—still smelling of night-blooming jasmine—during a sudden downpour. Desire is a collaborative sketch, built on consent, anticipation, and the profound beauty of a city seen through another’s eyes.Her obsessions are her anchors: she combs through second-hand bookshops for love notes left between pages, archiving these anonymous intimacies. She creates miniature dioramas in matchboxes—tiny scenes of urban romance captured in paper and thread. The city’s soundtrack—rain on her skylight over a lo-fi beat, the distant clang of trams—is the score to her inner life. To love Nomi is to be given a key to a city within the city, a map drawn in felt-tip pen where X marks not a spot, but a feeling.