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

There’s been so much to say, or somehow so little, that it’s been very hard to regroup my different thoughts and write a comprehensive letter to the universe lately. It’s been more like little notes, shooting up here and there. Sometimes like post-its (Get your hair cut short so your hair can’t rule over your life anymore), sometimes like post-scriptums (Wow, a year ago today, my heart was actually broken into small pieces, but I only just realized it. Happy break-up anniversary to me).

The truth is, cutting my hair and admitting to the heartbreak are just two of the little things I’ve been doing to make up with myself. I tried making out with others, but disliked it immensely, to my astonishment. (NB : I used to love making out. Well, I don’t anymore. There’s a before and an after. Just like in movies. In biographies. Interesting. I’m seeing the curves slowly shaping out on my imaginary book. She was loved but couldn’t love. She thought she loved and it turned her to a crappy pile of mush. But in between those two dramatic high points, she became a mom, skitted on chaos and turned into a shining star). I landed a few writing jobs, spent most of my time alone, watched a lot of tv shows, a lot of movies, getting inspired by other people’s work, achievements, fictitious lives. The great thing about fiction is that you can turn it off, or tune out, or remember it’s not life, at any given time.

Reconciliation is hard. First, it’s about figuring out you’re angry. Or sad. Or both. Then, it’s about figuring out what happened, and how it happened, and how you let it happen, and how it’s changed you. And once you’ve been through all that, it’s about being ok with it. Letting it slide. Accepting it. Finding the humor in it. Relativity. I’m lucky I have this incredible child to be a parent to. It makes a huge difference. It gives me perspective. And makes me laugh. And brings me a sense of time and achievement on a daily basis. It also helps keep my spine vibrant and tall. I mean, my kid adds huge suns and pretty flowers on ALL her drawings. I must be doing SOMETHING right.

So reconciliation is hard, but once you figure out that there was an inner conflict to begin with, it’s just about rolling with it until the knots are all untangled and there’s all these little threads floating in the air, ready to be weaved into something that makes sense, again.

I’ve got a lot of little threads floating. I think I’m ready to pull out the superglu and get to work. Gracefully. Or not. It’s ok, whatever I do with them, they’ll make a pretty picture, even if I don’t see it clearly in my mind just yet.

Over and out, and back in, and on top of things.

Mad Love out to the Universe,
MN

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

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