This is my fourth trip to Paris. Everytime I come here, I keep asking myself the question, why do I feel the urge to come back. I miss this city even when I'm in this city.
Maybe it’s the way the buildings are preserved, the gardens are tended to, the old signs are still hanging above little shops, or the fact that you can walk down almost any street and stumble upon something beautiful without looking for it.
Paris has always felt like a city that understands the importance of beauty. And, as an artist, I think that really matters. Every time I come here, I find myself thinking about art differently. Not just the art inside museums, but the way art seems to exist everywhere. In the architecture, in the gardens, in the cafés, in the way people dress, in the shop windows, in the tiny details that could easily be overlooked.
I think that is one of the biggest differences I feel between Paris and New York. New York inspires me through its energy. It makes me want to make things. It is fast and chaotic and constantly changing. There is always something happening, someone creating something, somewhere to go.
Paris makes me want to notice things. It encourages you to slow down enough to actually see what is already there. There is something so special about that connection between seeing a place through someone else’s art and eventually getting to experience it yourself. And maybe that is why I keep coming back. Paris feels like a city that has decided that beauty is worth preserving, New York doesn't do that. At least, not in the same extent. Everything in New York, and most of America, is all about modernization and streamlining things.
In Paris, the old and the new seem to exist beside each other without one needing to erase the other. A centuries-old building can exist next to a contemporary gallery. A tiny independent shop can still feel completely relevant. Museums preserve objects from hundreds of years ago, while artists continue making something new inside the same city.
Even the act of wandering feels creative here. I almost never want a tour guide in Paris. I would rather get lost. Getting lost is part of looking. And I think artists need places that allow them to look.
There’s another part of Paris that I didn’t expect to love so much: the people.
There’s this stereotype that French people are cold or standoffish, but honestly, that has rarely been my experience here. Even when I’m trying to speak French and completely fail, I never feel as judged as I expect to. Of course, there’s a cultural and linguistic gap, and I’m very aware that I’m a visitor, but I try. But there’s something about making the effort, even imperfectly, that creates a kind of openness between you and the person you’re speaking to.
I also notice it in the way people interact with each other. There’s a sense of community here that I don’t always feel in New York. People seem more willing to talk to strangers, linger, mingle, and actually occupy a shared space together. You feel it in the cafés, in bars, at restaurants, on the streets, there’s a social energy that feels less divided. In New York, despite being surrounded by millions of people, it can sometimes feel strangely isolating. Everyone is moving somewhere, headphones in, keeping to themselves. Paris feels more communal. There’s a willingness to share a moment with someone, even if you’ll never see them again.
Maybe that’s another reason Paris feels so inspiring to me as an artist. It isn’t just a city filled with beautiful things; it feels like a city where people are still willing to experience those things together. There’s room for conversation, curiosity, imperfection, and connection. And I think that kind of openness is its own form of beauty.
So, merci Paris, for another beautiful trip. I’ll probably be back again.
