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

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 hope your tour is as glorious as you are. A friend of mine is going to Strasbourg to see you tonight, she is very excited and I look forward to her telling me all about it.

That said, I have good news and bad news.

Bad news is I won’t be in Paris after all on Thursday. And so, hence, I won’t see you in all of your aforementioned glory.

Good news is I’m going to spend a week in the desert of Marocco, and that I really need that time off, and that I will be travelling with wonderful friends (a terribly good-looking gay couple, ie the ideal option for a newly single woman who really can’t deal with too much male energy right now) to go meet more wonderful friends (Marion, who you’ve met, and Guillaume), so it’s the best excuse I could have.

I’m giving my premium tickets to Ludo. Sure, he’s my ex, and so it’s very generous of me, but since we’re on friendly terms, I think he deserves to see and hear you even if we’re not together anymore, hee hee hee. He’ll be going with Maxim Nucci, the great (and gorgeous) composer and singer who also happens to think you’re great. They’ve got wonderful seats, I’m sure they’ll be thrilled.

I love you and hope I will see you the next time you’re in Paris. Or maybe in NYC when I go end of May.

Glory to you, to your perfection,
Madly, MND