I feel like trusting you. You have been warmer,
Paris. These days you have been dry and I have
been running around with my tears as the only
wetness touching my skin on my solitary walks.
You need not ask what kind of tears, for all
kinds of tears wash my muddy heart a little and
that's a good thing. The Divine Comedy's new
album concert at Salle Pleyel last Tuesday was,
all puns intended, divine. Not to mention I had
the best company, my partner in arts and Flash
Invaders slash my host in Paris, at our best
seats given by the band's tour manager with a
little help from my fun boat friend in Chelsea.
Coffee meeting with an artist's manager the next
day went as expected, and a drink date in the
evening went super well it sent me straight
to a walk to the river Seine. He made me laugh
alright, and he appreciated sadness more than
he despised anger, which was might as well as
I felt sad and a little angry afterwards, thinking
about a recent past. In this case, anger is
more empowering than guilt and it might just
be the very last stage of breakup I have to go
through. Maybe the dinner date can wait. Oh,
but, Paris, I know now that beauty isn't only
in the past like Dina wrote in a poem about two
decades ago. And although my solitary walks are
sometimes tearful for whatever reasons, they
are mostly filled with joyful sense of freedom.
I could even see with my third eye sometimes
how joyfully free I walk, and that doubles my
joy and sense of freedom within me. Mad joyful
sense of freedom, perhaps, as if I had no trouble
in life at all, as if I was ready to walk in
and out of places and things based on how aligned
they make me feel with myself, my principles.
without feeling burdened by perceptions of others.
These days, I have been well looked after. I
am surrounded by not only my two wonderful children
who love me independently from whatever distance
thrown between us, but other people who also
allow me to relearn how to receive love more
than just how to work in love. To experience
to be accepted without having to perform is to
learn how to love others more unconditionally.
Oh, to feel so free! I wouldn't know which came
first, the freedom to be myself or being accepted
for myself. But the impact on my journey is profound
and I am most grateful. I arrived back on my
boat just before midnight. Having done a pit
stop to see Scottish Ballet's 'Mary, Queen of
Scots', at Sadler's Well, straight from St Pancras.
Wow, that was quite a mouthful. I am now keenly
taking in all the things I managed to do in the
four nights I was with you, Paris. I'm not going
to tell you all of it, but I got to see Katie
twice post her recent knee operation. Even had
a lunch out with her in a local restaurant's
garden before I caught my afternoon Eurostar
train yesterday. I had a second meeting with
my sartorially stylish book cover and layout
designer. Yes, yes, there has been a delay in
republishing my poetry collection bilingually.
But trust me, it's for a good cause. The casually
serious chats and errands with my art curator
friend have been gaining steady momentum and
it is fulfilling. London is cold and misty, Paris,
and I feel naked and exposed to my deepest desires
that often scare me. I feel like resting without
guilt; an intimacy sans insecurity. I feel like
settling with the knowledge that settling down
isn't a goal but a mindset flaw wrapped in security
and aggressively promoted by our society to keep
us away from poetry and other rebellious accessories.
I feel like trusting myself even more, and more
constantly, as I move and rest, move and rest,
freely. I feel like trusting you with my constant
learning and change. londres, le 8 mars 2026, je t'embrasse !