Discovering Montmartre Homesick for a place I had never been Written, illustrated and experienced by Kimberly Curry Starting new things in autumn makes sense to me. Perhaps it is because I spent my formative years starting school in autumn. Regardless, it was the ideal time for me to visit Paris for the first time. For years I said that I would visit Paris when I was old and rich. As it turned out, I was neither old nor rich, but one cannot pass opportunities when they present themselves.

When my lodging plans fell through a few weeks before my long-planned trip to France I did a quick search on the Internet and immediately discovered where I would stay: Montmartre.

I wanted to see the funky side of Paris. Sure, there were the requisites of Paris - museums, monuments, and cathedrals. I figured that since I only had five days in Paris, I could not do it all, but I could do some.

Upon arrival in Montmartre, I was greeted quite graciously by Eva. She was kind and immediately likeable. I confessed that I knew nobody in Paris - except her, and we had just met. Being warned of the rudeness of Parisians, I was ready for the worst. Eva and her kind soul made me feel like I was truly welcome.

Eva took me to the Picasso Studio apartment that was to be my home for a few days. She pointed out some things I may like to do to orientate myself and then we made plans to meet for coffee.

Immediately, I felt right at home. After I unpacked my few things, I was eager to explore my new neighborhood.

Just a brief walk away, Sacré-Coeur regally sat on the top of the hill. As soon as I got there I was amazed at the multitudes in and around the church - giving a literal meaning to the word "mass." So many people everywhere. I went inside and sat in the center of the church.

It was massive and daunting; crowds of people circled around me, looking up and around. Suddenly it was too much. My senses were being challenged. I felt like escaping. A quick exploration brought me outside to the back of Sacré-Coeur. A couple of art students were sketching and gossiping in English. I ignored them but not their prime location. Nearby a little ledge served as a place to sketch a section of Sacré-Coeur.

It was a perfect museum day, clouds but no rain with just a bite in the November air to remind me that winter was coming.

My next stop, Musée de Montmartre, was probably my favorite. Walking through the garden and studio of Roze de Rosimond, I was taken by the golden leaves that created a magical canopy over a wrought iron bench. It was in this space that Rosimond and his artist friends Maurice Utrillo, Raoul Duffy and Pierre-Auguste Renoir created community through the arts. The peaceful silence was inspiring.

This former home had quaint, cozy interiors that made a perfect museum. I learned that Plaster of Paris came from this very section of Paris and that Napoleon stopped the digging out of plaster to save this hill.

This little museum was completely manageable. It had some darling impressionist paintings, historical artifacts and famous original posters from its glory days. There are even some drawings and posters by Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec. It was fascinating to see the early notebooks and preliminary sketches of work that is easily recognizable today, even to the most casual observer of French culture.

A very old woman walked just behind me. She had a cane and carefully maneuvered the stairs and the narrow hall. Wearing a dark long coat and a colorful scarf, her face was kind, but determined. She took her time in the rooms and viewing the art and collections of artifacts. I kept passing and circling back around her as we both journeyed through the various spaces.

In her own quiet way, she reminded me not to rush. What is the hurry? Was my whole point in coming to Paris to run from one ancient monument to the next famous painting, pushing through the crowds and checking things off my list? This was not my trip to the grocery store. Milk? Check. Eggs? Check. Louvre? Check.

Glancing out the window, I was amazed to see that the museum overlooked the Montmartre Vineyard. This vineyard is the last surviving vineyard in Paris. It creates a small supply of wine and sells it only to raise money for charity. I looked out and immediately reached for my sketch book. The sloping vines were dancing in bright red and gold colors. Deep greens of lower bushes complimented the palate. A backdrop of centuries-old buildings stood as quiet witnesses to countless seasons of Montmartre living.

My silent mentor sat in a chair in the next room. By the time I got there, she was asleep, her head gently bowed forward, as if in prayer.

Quietly I walked into the room and saw a scale model of Montmartre. This was an incredible visual and seemed to be fairly accurate as I was able to pick out where I was staying. I mapped out how close I was to the Moulin de la Galette.

I reviewed how many tiny streets I had already covered and how many, many more I had left to see.

And this was only one small part of Paris. I still had yet to see the Eiffel Tower! But there was my sleeping muse. This was not my only trip to Paris. I would come back. Right now, I wanted to breathe in the dust and memories of those who had lived and worked in this space.

Once I left the museum, I slowly wandered the little streets I had vaguely committed to memory. Admiring the narrow cobbled roads and gazing up at the old buildings snuggly huddled together, I thought of those who had passed before me over the years. I watched as the light began to shift and energy on the street began to change. Shadows stretched and lights flickered on.

As the afternoon lengthened into evening, I spied a little café on Rue Lepic and hearing the low rumble in my stomach I headed toward the door for some delicious Parisian fare. There were so many more places to explore and see, but remembering to take in this moment and enjoy, I did just that.

Please visit my website to see more images of Paris or to say "bonjour!" www.kimberlycurryart.com.

If you have your own favorite spot in Paris and would like an original ink and watercolor painting, commissioned work is also welcomed. Thank you for visiting. Safe and happy journeys to you!