I don't know if I do this every year, but I literally don't care because it's fun for me and this step, this checkpoint, is a particle gas pedal. Let me explain: today, March 26, is my half-birthday, my half-year. It's at this precise moment that I tell myself I need to do twice as much to make sure I've extracted all the pulp from life.

As far as I'm concerned, from March 26 onwards, I'm setting up an agenda. An agenda that I can't afford all year round, because it comes at a cost. A cost in terms of time, but also, and above all, a financial cost. So what I'm doing now, halfway through the year, is making a craziness (yeah, I talk like that sometimes, but so what? Hang me, I love a bit of strangulation sometimes). I start scouring the web in search of something unique and good for my soul. 

It might start with practicing tai chi in the garden at Square Elie Wiesel with my friends from Paris's historic Chinatown. Then I work. And that, thank God, thank God, I'm on a roll. For lunch, I always try to pack a colorful lunchbox. And if I have time, I come out of my den to try a street food restaurant I've never heard of. Then there are 3 episodes of breathing. They help me not to climb too high in the towers and to keep an eye on my sex appeal, which sometimes plays tricks on me. As I work, I strive to produce never-before-seen models. In the evening, I avoid dinner because I love to give my body a completely different kind of organization. I'm lucky to be able to choose deprivation. 

Then I go out and enjoy the good fortune of living in Paris. For a very long time, I shut myself away at home with a glass of Jack Daniel's or a stick of CBD in front of a film or video game. I've now decided to leave these parasites behind and open my heart to the sublime. And so I go out, into the unknown, and where there's light, action and people, I come in. And if it doesn't cost an arm and a leg. Because I need it to draw. Last year, for example, I found myself at Montreuil city hall, where a documentary was being screened about a man who threw an egg at Rachida Dati because he didn't agree with her politics, her wardrobe, her practices. He didn't like anything except making omelettes with her.

After that, there was a debate in which I participated vigorously. That's how I met Josh, a Franco-Scottish guy who took a liking to my "muy cute" smile (he was also a bit Spanish). We walked together to Romainville and he invited me for a nightcap in his artist's loft. He was a beer sculptor. In other words, he created works from Kronenbourg bottles. A niche art form, to be sure, but one that enabled him to sell his work all over the world. With nothing to hand at the time, since my Lolo had gone swimming down the Danube, I agreed to spend the night on his uncomfortable futon. You always need a little tenderness and a little understanding. This is one of the examples I can give you, encouraging you not to sleep with the first person you meet, but to get out and discover the diversity that surrounds us. That's all for today, my pretties. Muchos besos on your feet.

It's always time for listening those Bowie Beauty: