A Love Letter to Paris

I've never been to Paris, but I've been dreaming of it my whole life.

She lives in my imagination like a half-remembered song – all golden light and wrought-iron balconies, café tables that spill onto cobblestone streets, and women in red who move through the city like they own every inch of it. Maybe they do.

I think about standing in front of the Eiffel Tower first. Not just seeing it, but being there – feeling how massive it is, how it commands the sky, how the iron latticework creates shadows and light in patterns I've only seen in photographs. I want to be there at night when it sparkles, when the whole structure comes alive with thousands of lights for five perfect minutes every hour. They say you can see it from all over the city, this glittering landmark that pulses like a heartbeat. I want to stand underneath it and look up until my neck hurts.

And the Louvre. Oh, the Louvre! I want to get lost in those halls for hours. I want to stand in front of the Mona Lisa and tell her I see her struggle, but more than that, I want to discover the paintings nobody talks about – the ones tucked in corners, the ones that will stop me in my tracks and make me forget what time it is. I want to walk through centuries of art and feel small in the best way, like I'm part of something so much bigger than myself.

Paris is the city where fashion isn't trying – it just is. Where a woman in a red dress and heels can walk down the street like she's starring in her own film, and somehow it doesn't feel like a performance. It feels like the truth. I created these women because I wanted to see that – the ones who wear red like armor, like love, like a declaration. High fashion that isn't cold or untouchable, but alive. Parisian women don't apologize for taking up space, for being beautiful, for demanding attention. I want to learn that language.

I dream about the markets – overflowing with peonies and dahlias, cheese I can't pronounce but will absolutely eat too much of, and chocolate so dark and rich it feels like luxury melting on your tongue. I dream about buttery croissants from tiny boulangeries and café au lait at a table barely big enough for my cup. I dream about the way the light must look at dusk, when the streetlamps flicker on and the whole city glows golden.

There's a romance to Paris that isn't just about love between two people. It's a romance with life itself. With beauty. With the idea that a city can hold art and history and passion in every corner, and still make room for you. Still whisper, come, sit, stay awhile. You belong here too.

I painted these women – or, I suppose, I prompted them into existence – because they represent the version of me I want to be when I finally go. The one who doesn't hesitate. The one who wears red and walks with purpose and stands under the Eiffel Tower with tears in her eyes. The one who gets lost in the Louvre and finds herself in a painting she didn't know she needed to see.

Paris, I'm coming for you. One day, I'll trade these dreams for memories. I'll walk your streets in my own red dress. I'll cry at the Eiffel Tower and get lost in the Louvre and eat cheese until I can't move. I'll probably get lost in the Marais and love every second of it.

Until then, I'll keep painting you. Keep dreaming you. Keep holding space for the day when you're not just in my imagination anymore – when you're under my feet, in my lungs, wrapped around my heart like the city I always knew you'd be.

---

Creativity Doesn't Wait for Permission

At The Yellow Studio, I believe in creating the life you dream about – even before you're living it. These women in Paris existed in my mind long before they existed as art. But I didn't wait until I'd been to Paris to create them. I didn't wait for permission or the "right time" or the perfect circumstances.

I created them now. Because that's what artists do. We build worlds, we conjure beauty, we make the intangible real. And in doing so, we claim our dreams a little bit at a time.

You don't need to wait until everything is perfect to start creating. You don't need to have been everywhere, done everything, mastered every skill. You just need to start. Your art – whether it's AI-generated, painted by hand, or somewhere in between – is your way of touching the dreams you're still reaching for.

So create the Paris you long for. Paint the life you want. Design the version of yourself you're becoming. Because every piece of art you make is a love letter to the future you're building, one beautiful creation at a time. 💛