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Walking around in New York...

 In order to walk around Manhattan, your feet need to be “armed”. 


I thus went to the Nike store (in the Trump Tower on 5th Avenue and 57th St., you enter and it’s all the way at the end). “Chez les Nikki,” like we say. And I chose a pair that was neon pink. These are not shoes, but rather gloves in which to put your feet. 


I left, nose to the air, feet clothed in cotton. Life was beautiful, outside the sun was shining! 


Direction: High Line. New York’s new neighborhood. An old subway line, suspended in the air, transformed into a walkway. One saunters there, enthralled. There are restaurants, hotels, trendy bars, lawns and bushes, benches on which to rest. Here is where one should stroll so as not to look like an idiot (haha!). 










 Ask the taxi to drop you off at 10th Avenue and 30th St., or at the intersection of 9th Avenue and 14th St., climb up a story and walk in the sky! Walk along the green casting in the air. It is breathtaking! 


An Italian restaurant worth honoring, just below (on 9th Avenue between 15th and 16th St): Giovanni Rana. Pasta that melts in your mouth and deliciouuus Italian wine! 


In the streets of Manhattan, I’ve captured several amusing details for you. 




Jennifer, the police officer, who regulated infringements with such a big smile that people almost thanked her! 




A restaurant menu so precise that it specifies that the chicken was not fed antibiotics!




The little hot dog stands in the streets and this café on 9th Avenue that put up a big chalkboard at its entrance, “Before I die…”, where everyone writes in chalk what he or she absolutely wants to do before they die…  


Before I die

Before I die






Before I die

Before I die








Before I die... I want to return and live in New York. 


First Day in New York

First day in New York: it’s drizzling. I buy a $5 umbrella in the street and I jump on the M2 bus. 


I’m off in search of Calypso’s neighborhood (a new character!). East Harlem, north of Central Park. I know that she lives there, but I’d like to “see” her building. 

So that these things exist, in order to create my setting, I need a few real details. 

I ransack reality, so that I may better reinvent it. 

It’s still raining, the bus drives up Madison, the streets are deserted, gray. The bus empties little by little. The only ones left are two or three big mamas with their caddies. We aren’t quite sure whether they serve as caddies or as walkers. 


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Mexican sparrows, the New World, and all my wishes of happiness!

It is certain: the year 2013 will be horrible. Strap on your seatbelts or go take refuge in Patagonia, things are getting heated. It’s not I that say it, nor the Queen of England, but it’s in all the newspapers, on the TV, on the radio. We are reluctant to turn on the TV or to open a newspaper for fear of an avalanche of frowns. So this morning, just for you, I tracked down the streak of light in the gray of the news. Not easy. 

First piece of good news at the bottom of the page in Le Monde: the number of museum visits is rising. Oof! Armed with this gleam of hope, I continued to look. And I fell upon a big investigation in the Journal du Dimanche. And there, another gleam: “It is not a crisis that we are living, it is a change in the world,” assures Michel Serres, philosopher, science historian, and man of French literature. A young man of 82 years old. Not the end of the world, but a change that is really stirring things up. And has been for some time. But we with our blinders haven’t seen anything. Haven’t felt anything. We did not want to let go of our charming, reassuring handlebar, and yet…

I will not copy the entire article for you here, but just a few phrases. 


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A day on the set of “The Yellow Eyes”…

Laurinda et Patrick Bruel

It was a delicious day! 

We went—the three winners of the contest and myself—to the set of “The Yellow Eyes of Crocodiles.” Charlotte, Laurinda and Manuel. Charlotte comes from Avignon, Laurinda from Caen, and Manuel from Bobigny. 

It was a day when Patrick Bruel (Philippe), Emmanuelle Béart (Iris), Julie Depardieu (Joséphine) and Edith Scob (Henriette) were present. 

We crouched in a corner during the filming of a scene, had lunch in the cafeteria with the whole team, searched for Patrick Bruel’s wool hat, and bowed down before Alfred, Julie’s baby, a solid, strapping young man of 8 months who teethes on the keys to his mother’s scooter. 

There was only happiness! 

It almost made you want to start again… 


Otherwise… I crossed page 600 and I can definitively say that this affair is finally taking shape! 



Katherine, Laurinda, Charlotte, et Manuel

Charlotte et Julie Depardieu

Charlotte et Patrick Bruel

Charlotte aux commandes !

Manuel et Julie Depardieu

Laurinda et Julie Depardieu

The children of the Newtown school

There are moments when we lack the words. Or we freeze, mouths agape. Or we block our minds and refuse to understand. 

We don’t have the means to… 

This is what happened to me last Friday when I learned about the massacre in the school in Newtown. I was getting ready to finish up a blog post to brighten your day, and attach a satiric cartoon that I found funny, just to add some ornaments of laughter to the Christmas tree, when the news dropped and my fingers froze on the keyboard. Jaw open, air missing.   

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