On Being A-Mused in Paris (or really anywhere)

Walking around the streets of Paris is an open invitation for the inner muse to have her way. She will insist. She will hum, giggle at odd times, make you stop… and make you see things in unusual ways.

Even common (well, common to locals, I suppose) neighborhood scenes will inspire the muse to gasp, stop and instantly re-imagine what you have laid your tender eyes upon.

And this, my friends, is why I treasure my muse so much. When I’m out of ideas in life, for the next move, the next meal, the next idea, the next… whatever… I can always count on my muse to throw something awesome my way.

The only trick is… she wants to be listening to OFTEN. And acted upon frequently. Or she won’t speak when it really counts. She is, after all, a wee bit prone to pouting.
Don’t tell her I told you that.

So, this one day in Paris on a bright, cloudless day… we swung around a turn and BAM! saw this:


To which my muse replied:

It was a fine day in the neighborhood.Those who waited for buses, waited for buses.Those who created a world of pure fancy in their minds carried on with that.

I love Paris.
But more, I being a-Mused, no matter where I am.

Le sigh.

Taken with my Fuji X-T10 and 16-55 f/1.8 lens.
And can I just say… I’m loving my mirrorless experience and NOT having body pain, don’t miss my Canon gear… and will have MUCH more to say on the subject soon! (like when I stop running around this city taking photos! A girl has her priorities. Grin.)