A Throwback Travel Post: Paris 2014

A few years back, for some unknown reason, I stowed away my paints, brushes and art material, and withdrew from doing what I loved most; making art. A creative drought took over, and I no longer felt inspired to draw or paint.

It was at this point, however, that I immersed myself in web design. Self-taught, I loved the feeling of every colour, space, idea brought to life with several clicks – such delight! Until minutes at the computer turned into hours, into days, into weeks, months and yes, years. You soon learn that 75% of running a web design business is mainly admin, marketing, explaining the ins-and-outs of design technicalities, chasing payments, chasing clients and more admin. The other 25% is tainted with the murky hues of demands and emails which leave you rubbing your sore sleepless eyes at 5am.

Web design. “It’ll be fun”, they said.

So, in the early winter of 2014, when a friend asked me to browse Paris with her for a day, it was a no-brainer. This was the creative break I needed.

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The above images were taken with the first camera I ever brought – the Olympus VG170 – which I brought specifically for this trip. Little did I know, I was in for a greater treat than I’d expected. The Grand Mosque of Paris is a real eye-opener, stunning, transporting you beyond Paris with its beautiful blue hues, generous courtyards and lavish greenery. We spent an easy few hours here, engulfed by the tranquillity, before visiting the Eiffel Tower and the Louvre – but truly, we’d already been utterly spoilt.

When I returned to London, browsing through the images, I recalled how the courtyards in the Grand Mosque revived something deep within; a calling, an inclination which I’d known since childhood. The sanctity of creating by hand, letting nature drive your lines, curves, colours and shapes; that was unparalleled. The beauty of this could not be replaced by technology – complemented by it, yes, but no more than that.

And before I could put to sleep these thoughts, another haunted me: I’d been in awe of these works created by past generations all my life, yet what would I have to show to future generations? Would I dedicate my life to the temporary in favour of those which persevere through time?