I believe I found my voice in the writing that followed the discovery of my muse: Paris. I know that for most people, a muse is a person, but people only have one story, while Paris has near-infinite tales. It doesn’t matter where you walk (and you always have to walk to find the stories) you’ll see people interacting, communicating, creating drama. Once you get on the Parisian wavelength, it’s a beautiful experience in which to immerse yourself, but it’s not just the natives: the tourists are as much part of the fabric of the city.

I know there are probably other cities with a comparably rich vein of narrative, but I’ve not been to them. English cities are populated with people getting from A to B as quickly, and with as little interaction, as possible. Rome felt equally focussed. Florence’s charms are hidden in its galleries. New York is like being in a film with one main plotline. Boston is refined, but too small. What happens in Vegas is mostly orchestrated. Budapest has stories, but Hungarian is such a complicated language, I haven’t a clue what they’re about. I hear that Berlin has character and excitement to spare, but I’ve yet to visit, and it’s already too late for me: Paris is my mistress.

Two months before releasing Make a Move, I went back to Paris for a few days to build some energy, take photos for the cover art and do research for the follow-up to Make a Move, provisionally subtitled “Season Two”. Just me, my camera and a couple of changes of underwear. So much of Make a Move is drawn from my observations on the streets of Paris, I have to be there to get ideas – to get the feel for the stories. Google Street View is not enough. I found so many stories this time, my mind was buzzing with ideas for the sequel while I rode the train back to Charles de Gaulle (Roissy) airport. I captured a lot of them on camera (I was practising being less “reserved” in my street photography) and I’m going to share some on here, so you can get a feel for where Make a Move comes from.

This first story is pretty obvious, but it’s the incongruity that piqued my interest:

You see this sight in Vegas all of the time: newlywed brides, with or without grooms, being photographed in front of whatever photogenic background is available, but at the foot of the Arc de Triomphe? The photographer in the picture has a pretty standard wedding setup – crop-sensor DSLR with a portrait-length lens, assistant with a similar spare camera – and there were no other helpers with additional lights or reflectors, so I’m pretty sure it wasn’t staged. I was there to try out a new photographic technique (which kind of worked…) and it took a lot of work just to fight through the crowds in the underpass to get into the centre of the Place de l’Etoile. How this bride managed it while remaining fresh-looking is beyond me. I’ve also no idea why she (they?) chose this location to take pictures, but therein lies the story. Maybe they wanted to capture the softness of the bride’s dress against the rigid lines of the arch, or to juxtapose her serenity with the swirling traffic. Maybe they just wanted a guy in shorts and fluorescent vest in the background, and this was the only spot in Paris they were guaranteed to find one.

I don’t know – maybe I’ll use it in a book, maybe I won’t. Either way, it made me smile.