The Window on Rue des Martyrs
She arrived in Paris on a drizzly Wednesday, her suitcase wheels clicking over the wet cobblestones like a heartbeat. She had rented a small apartment in Montmartre, just above a florist’s shop where the scent of eucalyptus and garden roses drifted up to her window each morning. It had been forty years since she first walked these streets as a wide-eyed college student with a sketchbook in her satchel and dreams blooming like spring.
Now, at 59, she had returned—older, quieter, carrying a longing she couldn’t quite name. A soft pull toward beauty. Toward remembering.
The apartment was narrow and charmingly imperfect. Two shuttered windows overlooked the lively street, and she spent her first evening standing at one, watching Parisians with their scarves and baguettes, their ease and quiet elegance. She smiled at the memory of her younger self—nervous and hopeful, tracing cathedral spires with her pencil, certain she would become someone luminous.
In the mornings, she wandered Montmartre with no plan. She climbed the steps to Sacré-Cœur, browsed open-air bookstalls, and sat in cafés sketching the curve of teacups and the silhouettes of strangers. She visited the Musée d'Orsay and stood for a long while in front of Monet’s waterlilies, her chest tightening—not with sadness, but with recognition. She had once known what it felt like to want so deeply. That feeling was still inside her.
On the fourth day, she wheeled her suitcase down to the Left Bank to join a small artist tour of the city—a week-long immersion of quiet museum visits, studio afternoons, and twilight walks. She checked into a modest hotel in the 6th arrondissement, her room overlooking a new Parisian street view. She didn’t know anyone in the group, but the presence of others—kind-eyed, curious, quietly searching like she was—soothed her.
They visited Luxembourg Garden in the golden hour, took watercolors to rooftops and alleyways, and spoke in hushed tones about color and light and longing. One night, they dined by candlelight in a tucked-away bistro, and she laughed more freely than she had in years. Not to impress or belong, just because it felt good to laugh.
Her sketchbook began to fill again. Not with masterpieces—just moments. Shadows. Café chairs. A woman’s shoes. The curve of a bridge at dusk. But as the pages turned, something else appeared too: a return. Not to the past, but to herself.
On her final morning, she walked back to the Luxembourg Gardens alone. She sat beneath the chestnut trees with a pastry and a pen, the soft hum of Paris moving gently around her. The city hadn’t changed much.
But she had. And still, she was becoming, unfolding, being revealed to herself.
And that, she realized, was its own kind of masterpiece.
Are you longing for Paris, creativity, community with kindreds?
This is your invitation to spend a memorable and art-focused week in Paris. We’ll be staying in my favorite neighborhood, Montmartre, walking the same streets as Van Gogh, Monet, and Degas.
L’objet trouvé, the found object. We’ll spend a fabulous week together in Paris, France in search of it. In search of them! Your days will be steeped in Paris’ famous flea markets, inspiring museums, antique book markets, and wonderful boutique art supply stores. Along the way, you’ll search for what inspires you. Those found objects will fill your travel art journal with memories of Paris. If you enjoy a good scavenger hunt… If vintage French paper and ephemera is your jam… If you love creating, laughter, and maybe a little French wine… Then this travel journal art workshop in Paris is for you.
Join us for an unforgettable week walking through my favorite neighborhoods in my favorite city. Together, we will explore incredible art museums, shop for just the right treasures, and share wonderful moments together in beautiful Paris, France. Then, using all the inspiration and found objects, we’ll each create a gorgeous, and very personal, travel art journal. Oh la la!
I would love to welcome you in Paris next spring. Please join us. Click here to register or for more information.
