The neighborhood of Montmartre was a place of colors and living dreams. Topped by the Byzantine-style white domes of the Sacré-Coeur, the Sacred Heart Basilica, the cathedral felt like a holy place both of the spirit and the heart. Artists were everywhere, their easels set up along the streets, their bohemian little stands full of life as they courted the tourists who flocked to the center of Paris’s art district.
Callie stood next to Wes, taking in the main square, the Place du Tertre.
“Did you know that this square was a famous haunt of the artist Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec?” Wes waved at the eclectic mix of tourists and artists. It was easy to picture an artist haunting this place for inspiration.
“It’s amazing.” She wanted to study all of the sketches and the portraits around her.
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