Attempts to communicate with the Universe. Lettres à l’Univers et autres destinataires.

I was deep in my morning ignition minutes, aka the morning semi-consciousness I use to experience sharp insights about myself, those around me, and the world (yeah, I know, it sounds freaky of me, but they’re my ignition minutes, you know? Those precious minutes during which your brain is sending sparks to your body, and sparks to the Universe, and actual truths or priorities spark out along the way).

Anyway, let’s get to the point, I concluded this morning that 1) yes, our French President Mr Sarkozy is canceling advertising on public television, not to increase the quality of the programs, as is explained via his very righteous sincere deep-felt communication system, but simply to make it logical and possible to get one of those public channels privatized. Yes, that *is* kinda freaky, I’ll admit, that my first thoughts in the morning go to television, which I never watch, and Mr Sarkozy, whom I never voted for. But bear with me.

The reason I thought about TV is because on February 22, I’ll be watching it. It’s only happened once or twice, maybe, in 8 years, so why? Why, do you ask with urgent concern, will I be, low and behold, watching the spawn of all evils with antennas?? Because you, Audrey Dana, and *this* was my very first thought, are nominated for a César. Holy Crap. Your first actual feature-length movie gets you a nomination for the Césars, you rocking human being of a glorious joy of my life!!! I’m so excited, I could fly.

Which means, of course, that I will have to watch the ceremony. What with Audrey Dana and Marion Cotillard, there’s simply plenty to be giddy about, in front of a TV screen if that’s the way it must be. So there, I’m announcing it, I need someone to host a ceremony party with a connected TV screen I can be glued to for a couple of hours. Maybe I’ll buy the connection cable for our screen. My own parties are the ones I like best, in the end. Yeah, I know… What can I say?

Congratulations, Audrey. Your power and your energy and your work and your talent are now public. And that’s the very least of what you deserve, and will receive from now on.

I love you madly, Soeur d’Amour.
MND

http://www.audreydana.com

Last night I went to see my friend Joseph Leon play a gig, in this pretty cool and strange room, in the back of a café you’d never suspect could host such a room. Delphine joined me, as did a couple of other girlfriends, and I was thinking to myself how glad I was to be going out for drinks with the girls and to hear/see some music.

Joseph was good, the man has an amazing voice and really classy lyrics, though he can’t let go of himself and I wish he’d become as convinced of his own songs as he is of his covers. Once that happens the man will be genius. He already is terribly talented, and has proven lately to be extremely funny when he relaxes a bit. He’s only started playing live, so I expect mind-blowing evolutions soon.

And then I witnessed something really wild. A stunning, the charming-anyone’s-pants-off charming kind, female singer songwriter beatbox loop inducing wildness of a performer walked up to the stage and started causing raucous mayhem. I was enthralled. Her chaos was proportionate to her talent. And thee was so much disarming love in her fuck ups, and a sadness mixed with fierce joy and massive anger. As chaos increased progressively, the audience was playfully hesitant (would she simply purely screw up her performance? Would she end in a finale filled with stupendous grace?)… I personally had decided, from the moment she walked on stage, that even though my tastes strongly define me as a very straight heterosexual, the moment had come to have a woman’s babies, straightness being totally overrated and so very 1996 and Ludo having left me for Angelina Jolie, but Brad is not my type anyway.

The best was yet to come. As this gorgeousness of a vocal wonder sank deeper and deeper into a poetic mess, her friends came to her rescue, jumped on stage, with humor, and started singing, setting up loops and beats and guitar lines and there was so much love given, to her, to themselves, that I cried. In a good way, I think. But I also think that during that whole mess and thrill, I was remembering the feeling, in waves, of what our Cosmic Joke Collective evenings used to be, of our dinners and drinks at Fez for Spottiswoode shows, of how wonderful a time we had, how insane and free-spirited I felt. I feel like your Masquerade Ball, tonight, will offer you and your guests grandiose moments of the same kind.

Anyway, long story not short, I had a unforgettable evening, had some silly man remind me how stupid people are, laughed and cried and felt inspired. The thing I can’t get over is how, in the end, someone so obviously (we’re talking right there in your freaking face obviously) talented was so incapable, all things considered, to embrace the moment, and perform. But then again, all truth be told, I thought her chaos and non-show was one of the greatest things I’d ever witnessed. Her name is Laura Lippie, I can’t figure her out, but I’ll make sure to go see her next time she plays, see if she’s still lost inside, or flaring out.

I wish you a sublime birthday, you know I’ll be thinking about you all all day, and teleporting tonight, as I fall asleep in my Paris bed wearing a pink glitter mask, and then off I’ll go, all the way to NY, to request humbly a mad boogie with you, Mickie!!!!

Love love Mad Love,
MN

Check out http://profile.myspace.com/josephleon

It still takes me forever to get what I want done (though I handle forever better), and I still wish every year I’ll get better at it. So this year, it will actually happen. I also keep putting off writing to you because I want to take the time to make it right, and I end up not writing which is just plain silly. So this year, I will write, even when I only have a few minutes to do so.

I also decided to write personal Season’s Greetings whatchamacallits, rather than group emails or text messages. But I like sharing. So I will write 30 personal new year wishes and post them on the blog I never have time to update because I always feel like I need time to actually make it an interesting post (see Paragraph 1 of this note for a perfect vicious cycle example).

Because you’re a truly incredible person, and one the most respectful, self-contained human beings I know, I’m starting my 30 day personal greeting operation with you.

Here’s a double purpose email to your greatness.

First purpose, and I know it’s a cliché, is to wish you a wonderful and happy new year. May it rock as much as you do.

Which leads me to my second purpose. I think I told you I bought your record a couple months back. Of course, it took me at least 3 weeks to actually listen to the whole thing, which was I wanted to do in order to share with you my full appreciation. And then of course, five minutes is not enough to tell you how I feel about it. So of course (refer to Paragraphs 1 and 2), it(s only now that I get my crap together and sit down to hail you guys.

Rachel! The Sad Little Stars’ Stop Motion Breakdown rocks!! The record is so much fun, and complex, and strange but still accessible, and it makes the listener wondrous and want to dance and stride through the world with confidence. I’m crazy about a bunch of the songs, my favorite ones being I don’t Know and Good Luck because they’re just so cool, except I also love Everything Sun Ra so much too, and several others too, and the thing is the more I listen to the record, the better it gets (fyi, I actually originally wrote ‘the better I get’ which is a pretty insane slip of the tongue). You guys have managed the feat of making an album which gets better every time you listen to it. I suppose it’s exactly what a great record is, at least from where I stand, that being the place of compulsive repetitive listening cycles when I like something. I can’t wait to see you live.

Thank you for your ever so constant friendship, even though we hardly get to speak. I miss you a lot, a lot. I’m hoping 2008 brings us more opportunities to spend time voice to voice, face to face, heart to heart.

I love you madly,
Mary-Noelle

I can’t figure your Black Dahlia out. I want to love it, but I’m not sure I do. That’s probably a good sign, your movie not provoking a straight, linear reaction, but still. And why are some of the actors marvelous, while others sound and look totally off, huh?

I’m puzzled.

There’s a little too much wholesomeness in these characters. I read the book, and it was creepy. Fabulously creepy. The movie is punctually creepy. It makes the audience uncomfortable for, uh, unrelated reasons. I had dozens of people around me laughing. I still don’t get it.

I still think you rule, though.
Love and questions,
MN