18:40, 20 января 2016

Mistress America

Turns out I haven't been here for almost three years. I was planning to write something tomorrow, preferably in Russian, to prevent myself from completely losing the written language.

The reason this post is appearing earlier than planned is that I just watched Mistress America and felt compelled to put down a few thoughts.

Brooke, played by the effortlessly mesmerising Greta Gerwig, reminded me in some respects of C. Rather, Tracy's adoration of Brooke reminded me of my first feelings about C: being completely immersed in the light that emanates from someone so utterly alive in such a way that makes you shine, and makes you believe you can.

"Meadow DeRiggi lived exactly how a young woman should live who wants to spend her youth well. She did everything and nothing, and spent time like I always mean to: purposefully. She sang with the band and knew everyone and didn't owe anyone anything. And couldn't pay up, even if she did. Her beauty was that rare kind that made you want to look more like yourself and not like her. Being around Meadow was like being in New York City. It made you want to find life, not hide from it."

Being around someone like Brooke, or C (who is more purposeful and strong-willed than Brooke), gives you the best example of generosity. People like them just give, without taking account; it comes naturally to them. Their magic is subtle, imperceptible. Making an effort to forcefully change you is the farthest thing away from their minds. They change you from within, bring something out in you that you always secretly knew you had, but were too timid to reveal.

It's what Nietzsche's second affirmation is all about: sometimes there comes a moment in your life when you just need a witness, a reassuring presence to your beautiful unfolding.

Things in my life haven't changed as much and as rapidly in the past 4 years as they have in the last 6 months, all after meeting C.

But this magic doesn't work one way. You have to let it in: no force, no self-demolition. It comes with time, experience and circumstances. As Anais Nin put it, "there came a time when the risk to remain in the bud was higher than the risk it took to blossom." And when this risk comes, by some incredible magical feat, God, the powers that be, the universe, the law of probability - call it whatever you like - will send you the exact right person to water you into bloom.

Tracy's short story, cruel as it might have seemed, was really a love letter to Brooke.

Some day I will write my love letter to C.

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