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

I skipped a blog week, I know, just call it a vacation… But I’ve been busy. It’s been a great Summer, put quite simply. Interesting, rich, filled with contrasts and encounters and reunions. Let’s start with those.

My mother received a friend request on Facebook. From her brother. Actually, let me rephrase that. My mother received a friend request from her dead estranged father’s son whom she knew of, had looked for but had never found.

How ’bout them apples. Feels like an ad for Nokia. Technology. Connecting People. Next thing you know, someone will call with information on my biological father. I should set up an 800 number.

Our uncle is a former addict of just about everything under the sun. His story is enough to write a book on the Californian consequences of too much Flower Power in the 70s.

What else? I took the longest vacation ever, because I can do that now. Or rather, I can take a leave of absence from Paris and write wherever I am, meaning that vacation doesn’t exist for me anymore, but also meaning that writing facing the ocean is more inspiring than facing the boulevard out my apartment windows. I’m almost done with the Street Art book, which is very exciting. It goes to press in 10 days exactly. We worked very hard with Magda Danysz, and I’m hoping it will be well received.

I’ve been reading a lot. My first week was spent storming through Twilight, like a good post-teenager that I am. I enjoyed it, breezily. Not the best writing in the world, but very evocative, and I’m a sucker for vampires, what can I say. I’ve also been reading, in depth, the Power of Now. It was a perfect time for this book and me to meet. We’re best friends. I’m in the know of the Now, and utterly respectful of the work, the message, the references, the dimensions it can open. That and yoga are a giant combination. I feel the light.

I got to spend a lot of time with wonderful people over the last few weeks, and feeling very relaxed in my rapport to the world. It’s reassuring to know I have good friends to come back to, and projects to complete. I got to see Marion work on her new movie, directed by Guillaume, which was fascinating. Spent a couple of days on the set, and then would just meet them and the rest of the cast now and then for food, drinks, laughs, when I got too sick of Street Art. Real friends. Real intense people.

I feel great physically. I’m going to start greenshaking, in addition to everything else. Audrey’s been telling me wonders about it, and it seems like a good addition to my regimen. I got a bit off the raw food track during August, because of my various hosts, but managed to keep it somewhat on the menu, not to mention all the fish and oysters. And the clams I spent two hours lying down in the mud with Marion, Elise and Joel, scratching and digging blindly with my hands to find the smooth, polished little animals. There’s nothing like eating what you’ve ripped your fingers open catching.

I’ve been back in Paris for a few hours and can see how the daily things will be trying to sneak in. But I’m excited about facing the times to come with joy and peace and productivity.

I also have Jonathan, and then Trevor, coming to visit in the next few days, and I’m happy. I’m always thrilled to see old friendships evolve through time. Both of them are the kind of open and connected people who bring out the good in me. I’m also counting the hours before Clarisse comes home. Two weeks without her is strange and unusual, but video-conference is a great invention.

I’m sorting out a lot of my family issues, we’re getting a house for a mother. Very rocky process for them all, but somehow I’ve managed to completely stay sane and peaceful.

Over all, it’s all about growing and learning and being grateful and not judging and trying to improve everyday. Without judging. Ok, I’ll stop before I turn into a total hippie enlightened freak. Over and out.

Mad Love,
MND

I love writing lyrics. I’m thankful for the opportunities these last few years, and pretty amazed that finding the right words for Marcus has turned into such an experience. I’m really proud.

The song It’s Allright has been, from its inception, among my favorites. I hadn’t done any video work since leaving Art and You. So, because taking a REAL vacation freaks me out somewhere deep inside, I came up with a Summer project: to make a video with Marcus the neofolkmetal musician doing an almost acoustic version of the song.

Considering the close ties that I have developed with Marcus and his whole family these last 12 or 13 years, the adoring looks Magic Clarisse gives him and the fact she wouldn’t let me shoot in peace, these stolen images make total sense.

Lastly, I’d like to add that “alright” simply does not look all right to me. At all. So “It’s Allright”. And that’s how it should be.

Hope you like the song…
Mad Love,
MND

Hey you little star in the sky you, how goes it? I often wonder how long it will be before you start reading your crazy mom’s blog… Here’s to wishing you a wonderful fourth birthday. Four years, wow, seems like yesterday when all hell and waters broke loose.

Know this: you and your temper and your joy and your sense of humor make my life a wonderous miracle on a daily basis. I’m forever thankful that you’ve stormed in my life, bringing clarity and love into a focus I never dreamt I was missing til you came around.

Be happy, my loved one, as I am when I look at you. Because you are true. And that’s what counts.

Madly,
MN

Ok, chérie, c’est ton anniversaire, donc on va commencer avec ça, que la lumière soit, qu’elle déverse des torrents d’amour et de gloire sur ta personne céleste, c’est le moins que je puisse te souhaiter, en attendant de te retrouver pour déposer des pétales de fleurs à tes pieds. Les vraies amies sont rares, et j’éprouve régulièrement une immense gratitude envers l’Univers, pour ton regard, pour ton honnêteté, et pour le plaisir que notre relation m’apporte quasi-quotidiennement. C’est déjà beaucoup, mais peu au vu de la réalité.

Dans les news de la semaine, puisqu’on est lundi et que je fais ma mise à jour raviolis en même temps que de te souhaiter mes voeux, il y a tout de même mon aventure ferroviaire à narrer : en bonne super-maman, j’ai pensé que prendre le train de nuit pour traverser la France horizontalement avec Magic Clarisse était l’idée du siècle. Bon, d’accord, de l’été. C’est déjà ça. Autant te le dire : deux néo-zélandais ont sauvé ta Charlotte aux fraises et son engeance, non pas des eaux, mais du spray tranquillisant des cambrioleurs méchants, qui ont dû penser que deux kiwis musclés, valait mieux éviter, et se sont donc contentés de braquer nuitamment les compartiments voisins. A mon avis, ils ont dû endormir la contrôleuse qui avait juré de venir me réveiller 20 minutes avant Agen, parce que je me suis réveillée 30 minutes avant Bordeaux. Loin des pruneaux, donc. Résultat, brossage de dents avec les kiwis, et un grand-père resté seul, sur le quai, à 6 heures du mat’. Je vais en entendre parler jusqu’à Noël, c’est sûr.

Toujours dans les news, mon summer clip pour Marcus est presque fini et en post-prod camping, il devrait être en ligne d’ici fin août dans toutes les bonnes boulangeries. Le clip est fait d’images volées. Je refuse de les rendre, elles sont trop chouettes.

Enfin, j’avoue, je me suis remise au boulot, Street Art et Cinéma obligent. Mais là, à l’heure où je t’écris, je me console, à coups de rosé bien frais bien provençal, de la mort de Thierry Jonquet, grand polar-writer devant l’éternel, au sens propre comme au figuré, pour le coup. Mourir à 55 ans, quand on a son talent, c’est quand même trop con. J’adorais sa voix écrite, à cet homme, j’adorais sa noirceur teintée d’humour, enfin, je crois que c’était de l’humour, mais c’est peut-être qu’à moi qu’il faisait cet effet-là.

D’où un lundi tout en nuances, à coups de rosé, de street art, de pensées pour ton anniversaire et ta beauté exquise qui ferait virer toutes les cuties si je n’étais si hétéro, encore que, à force, on s’demande, et pour cet été en pente douce qui manque de yoga.

Allez, zou, barbecue.

I love you,
MND

Oh me, oh my, I wonder why,  wonder how my little girl can already be experiencing teenage angst.

35 minutes of broken-hearted tears, that’s what I just witnessed, as my own little personal Sarah Bernhardt sobbed explaining that she was done being happy, would forever be sad, refused to turn 4 in a couple of weeks, had no interest in life, did not deserve any more presents, could not bear to go back to school in September, or see her friends ever again. Add to that her officially giving up (still sobbing like mad) stickers, transfers, chocolate, notebooks, and color pencils, and now figure me, trying hard not to take my child’s pain lightly, but kinda freaking out at the whole “I’m sorry but I will forever be sad, mom, and I can only love you and daddy” monologue. 

After renouncing happiness for the tenth time, she has no more tears left, I think, and just kissed me and smiled.

She’s turning 4 in a week or so. What happens when she’s about to turn 15? Argh.

Mad Love,

MN

J’ai vu, j’ai hoqueté de surprise, j’ai fait “oooooh!!!” avec une bouche de gosse devant laquelle on a dit des gros mots. Vous êtes donc ma recommandation à ceux qui passent l’été à Paris, vous et votre Cri de la Fourrure, à La Comédie de Paris. Merci pour ce spectacle à voir, avec vous, créature Subliminale et Imprévisible, totalement déjantée, politiquement incorrecte, barge de chez barge.

En un mot comme en cent, Alex Pandev, vous êtes furieusement décalée, somptueuse et guerrière. Et drôle avec ça… Ca change du lissage aux bigoudis derrière les  portes qui claquent qu’on doit éviter  à chaque coin de théâtre.

Et pour tout ça, encore merci. Bref, to see absolutely, pour les billets, c’est ici.

Mad Love,
MN

I’m so focused on getting the writing done, filling my life with the good stuff and being a great mom, I don’t even know who to write to. I’m not sure I even have that much to discuss, which just shows that Twitter and Facebook are getting the best of daily whimsical thoughts. Actually, I’m slowly detoxing from FB, as I suddenly remembered I like reading and writing and dissecting movies better than putting up with most people’s spelling mistakes and bitterness. I also realized I keep putting off certain things. So I’ve stepped away from Facebook and gone to the pool for some swimming lessons. Three days in a row.

I can’t feel my body anymore, but I’m going again today. Our yoga instructor having abandoned us for some good old regular vacation (I mean Come ON, he’s not even off to some silent retreat or martial arts seminar! Who leaves their students unattended?), I’ve been left with no other option than to sign up for swimming lessons. And pools are a microcosm in their own right, with rules and unspoken laws and human sharks. More on that later. 

I did host a pretty cool Friday night girl dinner (my infamous menstrual dinners), with a simple yet scrumptious menu as a mirror version of my inspiring and inspired all female guest list. Some are recent additions to my life, and some have been around so long that this blog is, after 4 years, is more than familiar with them: Fanny the Pomarium founder, Alice the photographer of inner beauty, “You rock my Life” Marion C., Art and Law student turned gorgeousnotjustrawfoodista expert Marion T., newbies music industry organic oil entrepreneur Alex and soft-spoken South African beauty turned translator Mebrak.

Of course, parts of the menu can be picked up on Mathilde’s blog, Green Dressing. My contribution to what Alka calls Mathilde’s “food porn” being, of course, saturday’s salad, since her new and awesome blog is mostly about salad. I’ll be the good friend that I am and give you my secret salad dressing ingredient. It’s soy sauce. Ha haaaa! That said, nearly everything I’ve been making for the last year has soy sauce and toasted sesame oil in it. And I made perfect quiches to go with the salad, with smoked salmon and fresh shitake mushrooms and spinach. Lots of wine, laughing, giggling, gossiping, brainstorming. And a midnight perfect crime with an Academy Award to Marion C. for beating the egg whites manually so I could make a poppy seed cake . Ha! I heard you test positive when you eat poppy seeds. Guess I won’t make the swim team.

I have 4 days to work on three different projects, nah, make that four, before packing suitcases for Clarisse and I and taking the train to Côte d’Azur bliss, on a hidden hill house, to keep working and writing, albeit by the pool, like a civilized human being I am. 

Mad Love,

MND

Sign for Pour Joachim Gatti

 

Je suis désolée de ce qui vous arrive, désolée de qui nous arrive, désolée qu’on en arrive là, sur notre belle planète, dans notre joli pays.

MND

You’re bringing me so many blessings these days, it’s hard to count them all. Of course, I’m easy… Give me great food, music, movies + strong health for me and the little one and, what the heck, for the interesting unique people around me + sprinkle lavishly well-deserved money on top of it all = you got me pretty much where I want to be. Granted, I could use world peace and a fulfilling experience of any kind, at this point, with Clive Owen, but I’m patient. And busy. So who’s complaining?

I have so much to be thankful for (Antony and the Johnsons surreal show, incredible art seen lately, brilliant movies, my newly-returned health, this gorgeous weather and the coolest girlfriends to hang out). And I also have a lot to share, so let’s get it going, I need to get back to work.

My razorsharp friend Mathilde just launched Greendresssing, her salad blog, at last. Gotta check it out, she’s put in the effort of writing it in both French and English. Of course, it’s more than just a salad blog, it’s a moment of shared intimacy (events in her life inspire her new salad recipes) with one of the most beautiful and acute and brilliant women I know. And she can cook. I mean COME ON!!!!

Also have been spending time with an American photographer. Alice Dison. She’s the Uber-Babe experience: gorgeous, funny as hell, laidback and easy to spend time with. And her photos are. I mean that. They just ARE. She sees people. She captures something utterly beautiful in every moment. Inspiring. Ok, she’s from Los Angeles. Nobody’s perfect. But she lives here now. She’ll get rid of the sand in her shoes. Eventually. Ha!

With all this girl time, and with the amount of time I spend working on Magda Danysz’s Street Art anthology, I don’t have time for anything else really. Which is too bad because at this point, listening to the Clash is, like, a major turn-on. Yeah… I’m turned on by the Clash. By art. By a good movie. Mmm hmmmm James Grey . Ok. Definitely need to put some of that into something else than work and girls.

Or maybe it’s because of the time I spend talking to water and food before allowing it to enter my sacred being. It’s the Emoto Experience. Strangely,  it’s changed my daily routine by adding even more thank you time to it. Beauty and gratitude pepper my morning coffee, my lunch, my evenings, I’m so spiced up, it reminds me of New York, the sense of freedom and purpose I had, and the humor I tried to increasingly add into life.

Back to myself.

Mad Love always,
MND

I realized last night that while I make a point of updating at least twice a day my Facebook and Twitter accounts, another point being I rarely duplicate my FB status to Twitter because where’s the fun in that, and the last point being that my tweets (silly word) appear on my blog every day… anyway, I realized that I had not posted a blog entry in ages. For various reasons.

But I read this article in the Stranger last night, posted on Twitter by the freakishly gorgeous inspiring mad woman, free spirit and artist Amanda Palmer. I might add that Amanda’s peregrinations (is that even a word in English?) are fascinating to follow. And the very insightful article, by a guy called Paul, concludes that Twitter and its likes will never replace blogs. Which reminded me of mine, and of its ramping emptiness this last month. The article can be found here.

So I promised myself that, however late I may be today, this week, this month (on work, I mean), I’d be consistent in writing blog posts. Now, promises are made to be broken, I know that, but I do want to remember what my Spring and Summer 2009 were like, which is basically rather good, after months of, uh, freaking out and sorting through the dead-end Ludo and I found ourselves in, despite our efforts.

My trip to New York, and the time spent with friends, most of them being the stupendously sublime souls that they are, and most of them looking at me with the eyes of love and open-minded tolerance, was cathartic. And I’ve been going up-hill since.

I’m happy to say that mentally and physically, I feel great. My health issues are officially resolved as of last Friday, and there’s a big part of me that truly believes it’s because of psychonalysis and yoga and talking to water, not because of the terrible treatment they had me follow. Yeah, I talk to water now. I saw these videos by and on this Japanese guy called EMOTO that went straight to my brain and heart. And I’ve got post-its on water containers all over the house now, and I whisper sweet nothings to water as I’m about to drink it, and just that process itself makes life more fun. I’ve also been eating raw food, green food, superfoods, living food, and it shows. I’m in great health. I feel good (hear music stomp in right here).

I could go on about how, yeah, I expect money to start flowing in as easily,it’d be about timle, come on already, and how much energy I’ve put in this break-up to make it as great as the end of the relationship was not, and how I’m giving shelter to this young gorgeous couple who’ve ran/been sent away from home a couple of weeks ago, or how Clarisse made my life a living hell before turning into an angel, and mostly on how late I am on work, and having a hard time concentrating. But I’ll save that for later. Here’s the video on water, though. It’s changed my daily routine in the last 6 months or so, for the better.

Mad Love always,
MND