Paris is a fete and the artists are its stars. They meet in the Quartier Latin, the gathering place for youth and Bohemians, dreams of paper, romance and colors. Stone, slate and zinc are pieced together like a jigsaw beneath the Paris rooftops. The scent of book pages melts with jazzy airs. Behind each half-open door hides a stolen kiss. Quartier Latin, intermingling, cedar, sandalwood, giddy with freedom, tonka bean, radiantly yoked by amber. Heart of Paris that flutters in a latin fire.