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

Ok, I sound dramatic. But hey, what can I say, this is my belief. Human beings are taught to judge and accept judgement rather than rejoice for the miracle that life is. And when there’s a bunch of people together, and hierarchy, and power, as a means to serve an artistic end, well, of course, al hell can break loose, and hell can get tiring, unless you’re at an Arcade Fire or Polyphonic Spree concert. Or attending a church service, which I imagine has the same effect. To some extent. Connecting to something together and feeling the beauty and the hope and the vibrations of creative love, in hell and every where. Am I getting carried away here… ? Not even. 

So I guess that what you’re trying to keep up with the band and making music has everything to do with the opportunities to tap into that beauty. But yes, if you’re thinking about othert art forms, chances are you’re a little bored, or too atune to the music world to accept its humanity.

That said, Artaud performed entirely by children sounds like my kind of experience. Were you thinking of having them read the radiophonic poop/caca pages? Dreamy…

And THAT said, I’m thrilled you’re thinking of coming to check out Jarvis’ exhibition of himself in Paris Thursday, that’s the day I’m participating in the yoga class Jarvis and the band will be playing live to. Of course, it’s the Five Tibetans, my yoga intructor has accepted to take on the challenge :) Bring a yoga mat. Warm up on the Eurostar, the Tibetans are pretty physical. A little twirling will put your problems into perspective. And the gallery Chappe is walking distance from my home, so you can drop bags and what not if needed. Bring a yoga mat. Ha!

I’m supposed to leave that night for the country house. Need more writing done. So might not be around to take you around….. Let me know if you wish me to arrange for another chaperon.

Mad Love,

MN

And of course, being who I am, it made me think. After all, I’ve been sharing my darkest secrets, craziest thoughts, profound and no-so-quite-that reflections on life, biodegradable diapers and the price of organic apples, not to mention my tips on how to resist the urge of hanging your child upside down to put an end to their negociating skills. So why is this so hard to talk about ? I’ve figured it out. Somewhat. Maybe.

I like to share good news, and put a distance between the dark panic I seem to live with better and better, and this world filled with humans I love so much, by playing it, uh… cool ? Na, I’m definitely not the cool type… Sweet ? Nope. Light and dry with a touch of intensity for dramatic purpose, that’s me…

But usually, things change, life flashes its many sides and colors at the speed of light, in my daily routine. So nothing is definite. Except for break-ups, a part of me thought these last few weeks. Don’t get me wrong, a break-up isn’t the end of it all, but it’s the end of life as it was, especially with a child involved. So it took me a while to get rid of the guilt I felt, I guess, about joining the ranks of marital statistics that are very clear: one out of the couples break up before the first child turns two. Can you believe that crap… ?

Hey, Clarisse is three and a half, and she’s doing fine. Mostly because she’s just such a happy bossy busy inspired little creature of light (and evil, ooooooh, children are NOT innnocent). But probably because her parents are splitting up amicably, in a very modern way, with no anger, just the strange realization that, hey, this is simply not working out, no matter how hard we try, and it’s no use getting upset and frustrated, it’s just what it is.

So, dear Me, I’m a single mom. There, I’ve said it. It’s out there in the open. My shrink will be so proud of me. And everyone is getting along well. There’s no pain, just disappointment. No pain these days is pretty good, I think. We’re actually way friendlier than we’d been lately. And we’re still working together, the producer/writer combo is efficient, why mess that up? So there. It’s done. The last six years were different than anything I’d experienced or imagined. I’m glad and grateful, relieved and a little dazed, but really looking forward to whatever is next in this wild experiment I’m a participant in.

Dear Me, be good to yourself, be true, have fun, be great.
Mad Love,
MN