Unfolding. This is where we are, Paris. This
is what we're doing. I have asked for you, and
thus you exist for me. The you I have imagined
so far. One by one, things are revealed to us
that bring us closer to the vision. All right,
too abstract for you? Well, you see, the boat
in Chelsea is booked for a hull service at the
dry dock on 12th January for a couple of weeks.
Now, consistent with madness as my method, I
was totally calm about where I was going to live
during those days. In any case, my favourite
boat neighbour, who likes my cooking, surprise,
surprise, because he's the only neighbour I've
cooked for, who thought my breakup news dangerous
for single men, and is away in India until February,
has immediately offered me to stay on his boat
upon hearing the update he asked for. However,
at about the same time the service date was confirmed,
I saw a Facebook status of a dear jazz singer
friend, whose concert I had just attended at Sunset
Sunside over a week ago, announcing that her
flat in Montmartre will be empty for some days
in January, in February and in March. Never mind
February for now, this is my favourite part: it's
available for a week from 13th January. Can you
see that things are unfolding, Paris? Things
are unfolding, and I am enjoying the little details.
Like the French long-stay visitor visa (I know,
Brexit is still painful for some) that got stuck
onto my British passport within two days of submission
of documents; like the return of my passport
from the consulate that matched my filming dates
in Paris; like me finding out where I was staying
on the day of my Eurostar departure without specifically
looking except for a place where I'd feel good,
which turned out to be the film producer's family
home where all my scenes were to be shot. I enjoyed
all of it. I often say lately that I'm not a
religious person; I don't believe in verses.
I believe in miracles, however. And my life is
full of miracles. Well, and verses. I'm a poet,
after all. Speaking of which, bilingual republishing
of my first poetry book is scheduled to enter
pre -print stage by February. Get excited, people.
You don't have to be religious to read my verses.
You'll see that the book itself is a miracle
in your life, says I. I feel exhilarated, Paris.
I feel that everything is falling into place
all of the time. I understand my strengths better.
Like hitting the 400 -word mark without espresso.
Wow. And, thanks to these Sunday podcasts and
late Saturday nights (artist friends, you know
who you are) that have forced me to wake up and
write before I get to do anything else, other
than meditation in bed, I have swapped my running
schedule with writing first thing in the morning,
well, after meditation in bed, for the last couple
of days and it is mwah! Thanks to the same, I
have also been able to write pretty much wherever
I am. What am I writing again? Stuff. I'm writing
stuff. I'm a writer and I write stuff. I remember
just a few months ago, though it feels like a
lifetime ago, when life, work, relationship,
place to live, seemingly suddenly felt highly
uncertain, a question was posed to me, by myself:
What do you really want? I wanted to feel free
from all these chains so I could be with Paris
and write. So I could write. Well, I'm writing
now. And you know we're inseparable, Paris. Wherever
I am. I started writing for Imagined Paris again
after years that same month and I understand
now how something seemingly so little and so
insignificant could be the thing that ties everything
up together. I mean, how many of you are listening
to this right now? Just you? Wonderful. You are
so significant. You are as significant as every
little detail in this orchestra conducted by
the universe to fulfil my wishes. Yes, things
are unfolding beautifully, Paris. Things are
unfolding, and just like that, I'm hitting my
700-wordmark. Mon coeur est avec toi. Le 28
décembre 2025.