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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!

Ah, 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 re-learn 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 pitstop 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; 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 !

d.o.