Who is Pichets in Paris? Paris as 'muse.'

Paris as muse

Who is Pichets in Paris?


By now most of you know I’m an Aussie who loves to travel, and especially travel to Paris. Paris is my ‘muse.’


As writers we have an ability to find stories in what we see, hear, experience and imagine. Historically this has been considered a product of some external force – can’t we be creative on our own? Did you know Greek mythology includes nine muses who are responsible for all creative endeavours? These sisters had the power both to inspire and to remove the ability for creative thought.


Many writers credit their muses with the spark that makes a creative work move beyond the ordinary into the extraordinary. I often come across the term 'muse' in the blogosphere. Personally I feel the muse is the part of writers that maintains a supersensitive awareness of our environment. I believe anything can be a source of story ideas, whether large or small. Maybe something as simple as an overheard fragment of a conversation, the way the light falls on a tree's leaves, or how a wine tastes on the tongue, or some amazing food to savour, or simply the feel of a fabric on your fingers.


Paris has been considered a ‘muse’ by artistic types for centuries, and my first trip to this breathtaking city showed me why. It’s not just the architectural beauty, the setting along the Seine, or the way Paris has been romanticised on paper and film. Paris, for me, heightens emotions; there is a story on every street, in every courtyard, in every museum. I feel it soaking into my pores every time I visit.


As a writer I use my senses to absorb information. And I like to be alone with my thoughts as hidden beneath is a pool of images, ideas and fragments that surface when needed to form stories that I hope readers will enjoy.


This is the Paris I want to share with you – in pictures and words. I hope you enjoy the journey.


Wherever I’m travelling in the world, or whether I’m sitting at my computer in Brisbane, the thought of sipping pichetsinparis (a measure of wine) is never far from my mind.