I don’t have any tattoos, but if I was to get one, it would probably be of this wolf.

Right before I left Paris, my old roomie from the apartment next to the Rodin Museum sent me a much appreciated love package, my own custom design knitted headband!

She has this site with adorable knitted creations: http://emmadimeknitted.bigcartel.com/

Here are some pics of me sporting the new headband at Planet Rose karaoke in the East Village. These shots are taken just moments before Courtney and I dueted Justin Bieber. And note Lindsey— in honor of the concert the night before, we “La Rouxed” her hair.

After a whirlwind of adventures— a week at a chateau, a week in Berlin, a lost American passport on the day of my return flight, a flight to Iceland with Matt and Iris, and the ultimate challenge of finagling my way back into the States, I finally arrived in the homeland.

A week in NYC visiting Court turned into a month when I almost accidentally got a job on a film crew, and now I’m filling in Courtney’s room and chilling with all her friends on Thanksgiving while she spends the holiday with my fam, who were all expecting my homecoming.

Maybe I made myself sound a little too important there with that “expecting my homecoming” line, as I can hardly get my family to answer my phone calls this week, but I like to think they’re all devastated that they’ll have to wait a few weeks to hear about my year in Paris.

So Brooklyn is awesome, and the old Parisian partner in crime, Lindsey Simpson, joined me here for the first 10 days. Matt flew back to Texas Monday at 6am, Courtney flew Tuesday at 6am, and Lindsey left this morning at 6am, so the last of my dear loves have trickled away. Thank goodness Courtney’s friends (my new friends!) in NYC are so kind.

Here’s a pic of a Spanish tortilla I made for Lindsey and I a couple days ago. The documentation turned into disaster when Lindsey lost control of the ketchup.

I was trying to write a new story, epic writer’s block…

So I searched online for a story starter exercise I did in a college creative writing course. Instead I found this website for children, but I gave it a whirl anyway.

“Write a to-do list for a balding avocado who races go-karts.”

So I had a dinner party with friends the other day at which I completely destroyed the paella. I’m a disaster cook. But we were discussing Halloween costumes over the other edible dishes at dinner, and my friend Jean-Marie suggests: “Rainbow ninjas!”

Which is basically the best idea ever!

Another friend disagrees, saying that ninjas have to wear black so they’ll be camouflage. To which I reply that rainbow ninjas can form a freaking rainbow when they want to blend in! Ka-pow!

Now who wants to be rainbow ninjas for Halloween?

            Arthur is a connoisseur of art. His parents train him well with a thorough education in the work of Michelangelo, Van Gogh, Picasso, Dali, de Goya, Monet, Matisse, and Klimt. When he is nine years old, his late grandmother leaves him a substantial inheritance in her will. The thought of spending it on race cars or Nintendo games is silly to him. His first major purchase is a Roy Lichtenstein original. His parents are a little disappointed that he did not chose something more “classic.”

            Arthur goes to Yale and quickly earns a degree in Art History. As a graduation present, his father gives him a grand sum of money to invest. There is a promising and beautiful local artist named Nora who Arthur has been admiring for two years. He gives her the money to fund her art career, and she finally notices the tall, slim, awkward gentleman with the dark hair and mustache who is now her patron. Arthur’s parents are disappointed that he did not put the money toward something more “secure.”

            Arthur is offered a job as a museum curator in New York City. Nora goes with him, and they experience the inspiration of the frantic city together. Nora’s art becomes more and more experimental like her ever-changing hairstyles, and the museum of Arthur’s employment is the perfect place to showcase her work. Video art is her new direction. Arthur throws water balloons off a bridge while Nora films them exploding like balls of glass on the concrete below. His parents say that he is wasting his time on “meaningless” projects, but Arthur thinks the whole process is more exhilarating than any da Vinci painting.

On Quai Saint Bernard, there’s a secret section along the Seine where Parisians drink, play music, and dance. A few semi-circles line the river— each one containing different vibes. Sometimes there’s a drum circle in one, a group singing songs and playing guitar in another, and there’s always one full of couples ballroom dancing to a boom box blasting classical and Latin songs.

One woman with a sloppy up-do in a red dress.

One girl with two toned tights— one leg red, one leg lime green.

One hippie couple breaking it down— him in linen pants and a shirt lined in fringe— both in natural tones.

One couple taking themselves too seriously.

One girl with no idea what she’s doing.

Five couples where the women are taller than the men (even before the high heels).

Some sophisticatedly dressed ladies in smart heels look like this is the only kind of music they understand— in their own world. They slink around coolly. Then there are the women in sky high stilettos rubbing legs with their partners passionately, some dressed in loose European style pants, some in swaying skirts.

Some are younger girls trying to master grace and maturity while indulging in irrational crushes. Some dancing partners are long time couples keeping things exciting by partaking in the mysterious, sultry atmosphere— teleporting themselves to another place and time with a batch of non-verbally communicating strangers.

Other women twist and wrap their legs around strangers who they may have nothing in common with and may not be attracted to, but by grasping hands they mutually agree to use each other for the duration of a song as a body to compliment their physical being as their thoughts and intentions run wild. Some come for the audience— the scattered applause at the end of each song by the varied crowd sitting on the steps of the semi circle — voyeurs young and old, cowards, introverts, and closet creeps.

Today in the Champ de Mars, I’m reading and writing, feeling on the verge of something great.

Just as I’m thinking about Hem’s quote,

(“If you’re lucky enough to have lived in Paris as a young man, then wherever you go for the rest of your life, it stays with you, for Paris is a moveable feast.”)

And feeling extremely grateful to live in Paris, Matt texts me:

“Whoever was in charge of the sky today did a good job.”

Which is funny because I was just thinking about how the sky and the lighting is always perfect— the sun will be glowing from behind the trees like today or the wind will blow, the sky will turn gray, and the sun will hide making the city excitingly gloomy. These two personalities of Paris switch off, so you’re always happy with whichever one you get.

And Matt and I aren’t just happy because we’re hippies or overly optimistic (not that we’re not)— it’s that every few days, this city is so striking with its hot pink sunsets and perfectly blue skies full of fluffy clouds, that you can see everyone— both tourists and locals— all stop to notice.

And I continue to read,

with my new friend:

Lindsey and I survived the TOMATINA 2010!

There’s lots of cheese happening in Paris!

Stills from the play— The Breasts of Tiresias— for which I did the video art projections and French translations.

Find video compilations of the projection art I made for the play on my Vimeo:

The Tiresias video: http://www.vimeo.com/14591300

The husband’s video: http://www.vimeo.com/14587342

The policeman’s video: http://www.vimeo.com/14605480

The people of Zanzibar’s video: http://www.vimeo.com/14605480

Writing 5 pages a day shouldn’t be hard, right?

If I stuck to it, my script could be done in less than a week, but instead of being able to concentrate I’m totally wired because I drank way too much tea. Oops!

I think I’ll switch to cutting out pieces for my new collage. That’ll sober me up. One day I want to have an intern who will cut out all the pieces I need for my collages so I can just assemble them. That would be nice.

Actually I think I’ll just switch to wine… because I’m trying to embrace the culture.

The finale of 2ManyDJ’s complete with Joy Division and confetti.