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, and the 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,
all right, 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. How about 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 Wells, 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 and 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 !