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

Wow. Where I should even start… I first thought, spontaneously, “good riddance”. But the second after, I thought, “Wow, holy craperoni, no way, 2009 was actually great, intense, filled with lessons and experiences…” So here is how I’ll start: Thank You, 2009, you’ve taught me a lot.

Lessons learned this year sometimes came wrapped up in sandpaper. Like the one about choosing to stay true to myself, even if that meant explaining to Clarisse, time and time again over the course of a few months, that, no, breakfast in bed with mommy and daddy wasn’t an option anymore, because sometimes people just aren’t in love anymore, and to each his own bed, and that’s ok, it’s a grown-up thing and we still love you forever and forever and that will not change. Or the one about accepting that people’s issues are not your own, that you can’t change people if they don’t want to, and even if they’ve changed you.

Lessons also come in a shimmery coat of joy, like the realization that you can do whatever you want to do, that you can let go of the angst and the pain and the past, and embrace the cracks and the quirks that make you special and unique and wonderful. Or that in a few weeks, you’re able to conquer all five positions of the Tibetan Yoga cycle. Or that writing is what your life is about and you’ve already co-written one book, three screenplays, 25 songs. Or that you have faithful loyal brilliant caring talented inspiring friends across the universe and beyond. And, above it all, that your four-year-old child can one day verbally express her fear of death and a few weeks later, how much she loves her life. And isn’t it what it’s all about…

2009, you’ve been good to me. Good because filled with changes, friendship, personal revolutions, and love, in unusual unromantic ways.

I’m grateful. And looking forward to 2010. But more on that later.

Mad Love to you, and to myself, and to everyone,
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

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

This is my horoscope for this week, brought to me by my favorite oracle, Rob Brezsny himself.

“Wisdom is knowing I am nothing,” said Indian philosopher Nisargadatta Maharaj. “Love is knowing I am everything. And between the two my life moves.” According to my calculations, Sagittarius, you’ll be more on the “knowing you are everything” side of the polarity for the next few weeks. That’s because a flood is imminent. I expect you’ll be on the receiving end of a massive outreach from the universe — an influx of invitations, inquiries, and offers to make connection. You should also be prepared for the dizzying pleasure that comes from seeing how profoundly interlinked and interdependent you are.

All I have to say is : Bring it on, my arms are open wide, and so is my heart. This (really cool) horoscope reminded me of my encounter, a little over a year ago, with a genius, right up the street from my place. And by genius, I don’t mean Einstein, I mean Ali Baba. Who was no genius but got one to do all the work for him.

I was standing on the rue des Martyrs, freezing my bum-bum off. And yes, for those of you dying to ask, I have a bum-bum. Once you have children, you have a variety of body parts with interesting names, and therefore not an ass, my friends, but a bum-bum. Frankly, what kind of a mother would I be, were I to sweet-whisper in my perfect, if somewhat temperamental child’s ear : “Honey love Clarisse, how about you moving that cute ass a little faster so your school principal doesn’t throw me out, uhuh?”.

I don’t think so.

So anyway, I was freezing my ass waiting for a bus, craning my neck and cursing politely its driver for being ever so late in its ever so usual way, when I heard someone say (in French, s’il-vous-plaît) : “Dites-moi quel est votre souhait le plus cher…” Meaning, for those who still have not spent enough time with me in Paris to becom fully bilingual, that someone was asking me what my number one wish might be. So I turned around, with an amused, yet circumspect look, wondering who was walking around granting wishes on a crisp January morning.

My genius was wearing an orange, as in very bright orange, overall suit. Kinda like a spaceman. And he had this huge excited smile on his face. He might have been in his forties, though I’m not sure at this point. And he was downright totally happy, and his happiness was downright infectious. So I smiled. And he repeated his question. I thought about it, trying to focus on my wish and not the freezing cold. I think he mentioned something about the fact he didn’t have all day and would I be so kind as to figure out my wish today, not tomorrow. I asked if I could get three wishes, like them stories I’ve read, and he politely blew me off, said wishes weren’t on sale, that granting me one was already a big deal. So I asked for love in my heart. He said “ok, I can do that, here’s your bus, have a great life and I’m glad I could be there for you”. Sure enough, the bus slowed down in front of me, I got on and looked back to see the orange spaceman waving bye bye to me. And that was that.

Now the thing is, my brain and my mind work in, uh, very strange ways. I think it’s probably so as to allow me many wild creative moments and incredible experiences that I seem to forget those moments and experiences as rapidly as they appear in my mental space. So I kinda forgot about my encounter with the Genius, until I read my horoscope, went to write in my blog, and found an old post draft from that day, which I’d never finished, never published. I remember smiling all day. I remember thinking, wow, maybe he’s a lunatic, but maybe, just maybe, he’s a genius. And how cool would it be for love to be in my heart…?

Well, I can’t say the last months have been easy, or that the last years haven’t been challenging, in an interesting way… but in the end, that’s what it’s all about, no? Could I be who and where I am today without love in my heart? I think everything I’ve recently experienced is the proof, if need be, that my orange genius out of a bottle has managed, as it should be, to grant my wish. So next time your bus, your subway, your ride is late, just keep your eyes and your mind open to raving lunatics.

Mad Love, Always,
MND

I love you. I’ve missed you. Didn’t even realize how much really. So happy to be back. Remembering how generous my life is. How beautiful my friends are. How your light shines and glows and makes us feel alive and connected. Thanks. I’ll make a point of taking the feeling home and holding on to it. But for right now, I’ll just follow the flow, let myself go.
Mad Love, always,
MN

Yes, you… Ok, I’ve been meaning to write in the last few weeks. Not to Me, actually. I thought of a bunch of lovely YOUs I could pour my heart and mind out to, as well as a few freaky entities, truth be told, but everytime I opened a blank blog page, I’d freeze.

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