Carnet 03: Fire, Words, and the Pulse of a City

La Phénix - Mad Lips 21

When I first heard about the Carnet 03 contest hosted by Maison de la culture Marie-Uguay, I felt something spark in me—and I’m not just saying that because my poems are all about fire.

This contest is more than just a chance to be published or exhibited. It's a gift. A rare and beautiful initiative that brings artists and citizens of Montreal into the same creative breath. Approximately 1200 blank carnets were distributed across the city, inviting anyone—yes, anyone—to fill those pages with their truth. Their visions. Their heart. And now, about 700 are expected to return, with only around 30 of them containing poetry. Mine is one of them.

I can’t explain what it means to participate in something that ties me so deeply to the place I grew up in. I’ve lived many lives within this city, but this? This feels like a love letter to all of them.

The Maison de la culture Marie-Uguay has created a powerful, democratic space for expression. This initiative isn’t about being the best writer or the most polished artist—it’s about being present. Being real. It’s about showing up with your voice, your vulnerability, your flames.

The official vernissage is set for Saturday, March 31 (time to be confirmed—we’re still waiting for the details from the Maison de la culture). I’ll be including photos of my carnet once the exhibition opens. I can't wait to share it with you.

A quick word about the woman who inspired the name of this cultural house: Marie Uguay. Born in Ville-Émard in 1955, she began writing poetry in her teens and quickly became one of Quebec’s most promising literary voices. Her writing—fierce, luminous, and full of introspection—tackled themes like identity, love, and feminism with a maturity beyond her years. Diagnosed with cancer at a young age, she faced it with immense strength and clarity. She passed away in 1981 at just 26 years old, leaving behind a body of work that continues to resonate. Her story touches me deeply. Her courage and her voice remind me why we write: not to be perfect, but to be heard.

My own contribution is deeply personal. I wrote four poems with love, fire, and every ounce of truth I could pour into the paper. The very first one, Feu Feu Grand Feu (Fire Fire Big Fire), was written when I was eight or nine years old. I kept it all these years. Including it now felt like honoring that little girl who had so much to say but didn’t yet know how to be heard.

That poem became the anchor for the rest.

• La Phénix (The Phoenix) is about burning out and coming back stronger. Letting the fire die, only to be reborn from the ashes.
  

• The third poem is about love. That delicious, torturous uncertainty—not knowing if the person you love feels the same. That burning ache of being in it, fully.
  

• The fourth, Via Notre-Dame in Ecstasy (On Notre-Dame Street in Ecstasy), is an ode to passion and sensuality. I wanted to explore desire in a way that was unapologetically raw. Since the contest required us to reference a well-known location in the southwest of Montreal, I chose Rue Notre-Dame as the setting. It’s written in a mix of French and Latin, and it tells the story of a woman consumed by desire as she walks through the city, imagining the one she craves.
  

I’ll include a link here soon so you can explore the carnets from previous years. Trust me, you’ll want to dive in. Carnets.ca

Until then—let it burn.

Stay tuned, Mad Lips 21