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I woke up with no sense of urgency today, Paris. Zero six fifty-nine: I didn’t feel early for anything and I didn’t feel late for anything. I wonder if this is what security feels like, or better still what freedom feels like. I’m not wondering if this will last, or for how long, for I treat every wonderful experience as a new standard.

The Thames is at low tide and as calm as me though I am not at my low of my tidal emotions. No – in fact, the water is coming back in. Slowly and steadily. We’re in no rush to leave the shore and sail, yet I can feel that the wind is on my side.

Three real days and you saw everything, Paris. Your cobblestone streets saw my bouncy steps and my unrestrained smile. Your Bouillon Chartier saw me happy as a child eating my escargots and île flottante, and other things in between – I’m not in the business of trying to be skinny! Your Le Maung coffee shop and Atelier 48 saw my laughter and meaningful chats with friends while doing Seni7Plus thing at Dandy’s “Silent Movement” finissage. Your Publicis cinema seats saw the satisfaction in my face seeing Jethro’s “Paul and Paulette Take A Bath” with my wonderful friends. Your Rempah saw me eat delicious Indonesian food with my fingers while having deep conversations with my friends. Your dark kitchen corner saw me cry over another artist’s pain I could feel in my body. Your Printemps terrace saw me passionately and unapologetically argue with a person I had just met about injustice on others. Your outside café tables saw my pensive gaze behind the smoke from the cigarette in my hand. Through the whole things, my hand was held – literally and, more importantly, figuratively speaking.

Through the whole things, I felt accompanied. Yes, even when I took my late-night long walk along your river solitarily after my solo steak supper near Palais Royal. The novelty breakfast at Café Marly overlooking the Louvre pyramid was rather uneventful, even as your chilly wind seeped in through the glass fence separating me from the sea of people queuing to enter the museum outside and saw me drink my overpriced lukewarm café allongé – yeah let’s not do that again!

Let’s walk in the Tuilleries, on the same ground the sea of people walked on, and play catch with the sun and sit on the green metal chairs by the green pond where my hand was once again held – literally. When the sun threw the spears of light somewhere else, let’s keep on walking across the city through the quieter streets to my double manicure appointment before catching up with my bestie Katie. Someone picked a colour I would have never chosen for my nails and we were all immediately loving the result.

My delicate arms were so grateful for carrying, in turns, my tiny vintage Delvaux purse all the way to the station, they thought I should not travel on my own ever again, especially with incredibly heavy books inside my suitcase and god knows what in my tote. Let’s stop exaggerating right about now, though you can’t stop my naturally dramatic flair. My drama comes from pure passion of the heart, that is not trying to gain other than freedom, connection and understanding.

What about love? Love is my given state, my default setting, even if he didn’t effortlessly make my fussy self quite so easily agree to say yes to one of my least preferred foods galette. But he did, and it turned out to be one of the most ravishingly enjoyable meal I have ever had in my life! It was at Ar Poul Gwen, a few-minute walk from Gare du Nord. Love is my given state, my default setting, even if I had to sit at the Eurostar lounge drinking crémant on my own as usual last night. But I didn’t, and tant mieux !

I don’t know what else to say, Paris. Let me just infuse some Coco Maung Sumatran coffee into my calm nervous system and let my heart roar in love.

londres, le 17 mai 2026

je t’embasse !

d.o.