You just can’t help but say exactly what’s deep inside of you – at times a dangerous thing to do, but it is always the truth, so you’re under divine spell, you gracefully repel anything that is not true, genuine can’t live without kindness is what you value, at any given moment, and, so, attract the bird that just bumped into one of your windows. What? Yes! To be a fool at the right time is also an art, as Aldous Huxley said. Giggling is so childlike fascinating.
The Rain (Supa Dupa Fly) by Missy Elliott is what the bird seemed to have been singing while flying, dancing, same, when – boom! – our window looked legit for it to make its presence felt. I was sitting on the couch, on the other side of the window. I didn’t see it in the instant of the impact, but I knew it was a bird by the way the whole thing felt. I rushed outside.
I shazammed the song (and sent right to my music library) while watching In Vogue: The 90s, as soon as it aired. Air. A deep inhale of oxygen is what we sometimes need and, sometimes, it might come in the form of truth we didn’t see, couldn’t see, got used to not seeing. But then we see it. Oh. Gloria Steinem’s The truth will set you free, but first it will piss you off! high-fived my heart, freedom was always on my mind, in the air throughout, was the oxygen, who am I kidding, can you, too, sense the speed we’re talking about while being completely fly? So, the song is part of the background of my childhood; and life, it seems. Just as fresh. Back and better than ever. And I love rain. And the sun always comes out after it.
You know how people say one thing to your face, but you feel that they, deep inside, feel another thing for the thing they’re saying? It can be anything, from superficial to revelation. They ask or tell you one thing, you are present, and a little-little, almost unnoticed – but hey! – something crosses your stratosphere. Still, you rock the conversation, totally engage, torpedo into your reply. You look into their eyes, you are in your natural flow that feels like the melody in Everything In Its Right Place by Radiohead, yet the words coming out of their mouth feel like the tone introduced by the lyrics. I first must have heard the song in Vanilla Sky, when I was a baby. Talk Show Host, from Romeo+Juliet, remains my favorite, though. And, then, one day, you’re watching something, or cooking something, and it beautifully hits you. The truth. The but hey!. Suddenly, you know and you accept it. What was meant to be superficial you turn into revelation. Not bad. You move on. Your heart, obviously, remains open. Because what’s cooler than being cool? Ice cold!
You hold the bird in your hands, you feel its heartbeat, you stroke its little head as you put it down on the ground, on earth, you are happy to see its eyes blinking, it is still standing on its feet, your hope is always hanging out with the stars, you give in and so does the bird. Being in the hands of a human being is something not many birds – I bet – are dreaming of and, maybe, vice versa. A strange sensation has always subconsciously coursed through my veins. An unpredictability that felt both out of this world and natural to my blood. Therefore, it was actually my dad who held it. It’s a starling, he told me. I stroked its head. With just one finger. The right index finger. Dad told me to feel its heartbeat. And so I did.
You ask the Internet and you learn that the shock was extreme, that rest in a cozy, safe from predators box is what an adventurous and funny bird needs, you find a box, you make it neat, and as soon as you take the box outside, you’re thrilled to see the bird blinking still, your heart is doing the same, the joy is subtle, but so real. It’s only the bird and me, now. And one purple poo behind her. It feels celebratory. I shout from the mountaintops to let everyone know about it. Even the poo is regal. Of course it is, the bird’s been eating all these berries from the garden.
Touching a bird feels surreal to me. I feel like it belongs to a different realm. It touches the sky. It flies. It’s free. Sometimes, it might say hi!, in its unique way. Even let you touch its heart. In a flash, the earth and the sky connect. In a flash, everything is everything. And away – home – she flies. I feel you, bird. Hold On, We’re Going Home, but make it Arctic Monkeys, baby. Loop the video, do your thing, let go, put your hand up in the air.
I think there’s something, baaaabeeeey!
I think there’s something, baaaabeeeey!
Some things happen out of nowhere – is what it seems like. All the other things happen in the same shimmering order, as well, but you just have to see it. The shimmer. And be present. In an instant, make the decision. Think fast on your feet, feel it first. Swiftly. Smoothly. Precisely. Lead with your heart. Roar. Lean into calm. Yum. Into the liminal space between worlds where all the decisions are one at the same time until you look at them and you choose one. Accountability is a sexy thing, are you answering the call?
There’s something that comes with seeing clearly, with sensing vulnerability. It’s trust. You finally trust yourself, you know who you are, and trusting someone else with your whole heart takes a lot of courage. Trusting yourself takes a lot of courage, too, for sure, and it’s trusting yourself first that makes you see clearly what trust means, in the first place. Trusting the stars, along the way, might have helped. They’re always there, here, everywhere, twinkling. Create this electricity. The path of least resistance. Invisible. Open. Warm. You ease into the feeling. Into the light. Turning Page by Sleeping At Last comes on shuffle. I remember shazamming it while watching Twilight. Roar and ice cold. Lightness is the language you love. Always balanced by the hardcore, of course, the ambition to do the work you’ve never seen in anyone else before, not like that, but always thought to be possible. And the fun. It’s what life is all about. Character. Love. The stars told you so. You know and nothing can sway you. Everything is here to get you in the flow. Vulnerability is a super power, thank goodness. Wholesomeness is magnetic. None of them work, though, without being present. I think.
Almost nothing turns the light on as a button does. Same with turning the light off. But then again, electricity can, rapidly, just shut it down. Out of nowhere. And so can trust. You know who you are, remember? A unique disco-kissed soul. Luckily, you can see in the dark, too. You are the flashlight. And stars, again and again, show you the next step. Go Up (feat. Cat Power and Pharrell Williams) comes to mind, by Cassius. The stars have been witnessing everything you’ve been through.
Being free is being exactly who you are in this moment, everything that you are, the fabulous, the sad, the strong, the vulnerable, the extrovert, the introvert, everything, because you are everything in existence and beyond. That’s why, to me, style is all about authenticity. From Paris to Los Angeles, around the globe, from polar bears, reindeers and foxes to seals and penguins, and all in between, style is not set in stone. It is, according to people, but we’re too many on this planet to live our lives according to what people say. You can totally be the stone if you feel like it, all roads lead to Rome sounds good to me, be and then not be, and be again, or be completely different. The idea that you can be yourself wherever you are in this world just does something nice to my brain. Freedom lives in authenticity. Freedom is authenticity. You are things that you don’t even know that you are. Yet. And that’s life. Continuously expanding. The thought of it alone sounds good. No matter where you are in this world, you can be free. If you want. In your heart. No one can cage your heart unless you let them. Being true to yourself is the greatest thing you can give to the world, anyway, hooray! You think loyalty is randomly so close to royalty? Me neither.
You don’t chase approval and that makes you immune to manipulation, uh oh. And vice versa, right? When you have no interest in manipulating people, people are free to be exactly who they are when they’re with you and that’s fantastic. Yet, scary for people, a lot of the times, apparently. Exactly who they are? Who is that? Mamma mia! When presence is everything, for a couple of minutes, hours, a match, for an entire day, for days, weeks, years, for ever young. Creative mode.
The moment of truth comes at 1:29:09, in the stunning Wimbledon – Jannik Sinner vs. Carlos Alcaraz – final of 2025. What a year has been so far. Did you just hear the champagne cork, too? Oh man. Oh man. Or 1:30:44. Or 1:31:50. You notice the speed? And the seconds, I know. Takes you to Formula 1. To Ayrton Senna. Imagine everything that’s going on in the universe. Kinda same, that’s the point. And here comes 1:32:34.
Hearing love so clearly, this time around, and for so many times, throughout the match, brought celestial influence to the court. One theory traces it to the French word l’œuf (“egg”), as zero looked like an egg, and English speakers adapted it into “love”. Another suggests it comes from the phrase “to play for love (of the game),” meaning playing without wager or stake, when one’s score is zero.
The bird remembered just how much it lives life. It loves life. It loves love. Thinking Of You by Lord Echo is now echoing from the sky. It’s the truth that feels revelatory, one revelation bouncing off ideas with another one, at any given moment in time and space. That looks like twinkling in the night sky. It’s the ecstasy that you feel when you’re in the presence of truth – it is what it is, basically. Essentially, no matter where it is coming from, the truth will set you free.
One of these moments in time and space happened when my brother took me – after the U2 concert we’d attended together from the best seats in the Manchester Arena – to a place off the highway that was taking us home, by the water that connects England to Wales. As we were driving to it and the music was telling us things, on a Saturday to Sunday night, everything started to feel like a fairytale. Everything was everything. The road was narrow-narrow, the aliveness of nature was surrounding us from very-very close up. My brother had been there a couple of times, but never at night, so that was a whimsical undertone. We parked the car and, through a deep alley of trees, we entered this living painting. Enchanted was what we looked like from up above, no doubt. No one but us and the ducks quacking was there. One of the most sincere greetings of all time. There were no houses on our side, there were only a couple of benches you don’t only see in paintings, but in movies also, and real life. Tiny-tiny houses on the other side of the water brought human warmth to the painting. Somewhere pretty high, on a vast hill, we were close to the sky, the starry-starry sky lighted up but the stars. And the moon. Of course she was there. The space felt like from space, the air was filling our lungs, was getting to our hearts, it’s that sort of air that we’re talking about. Stardust. As we were completely enwrapped, enraptured with the majesty of it all, I felt this immense heartbeat.
Moments when I’m here, there, everywhere and lose the track of time. That’s why everything that I love has this timelessness to it. Pose. Pose. Pose. Pose. Pose. Or something. Great. Don’t act. Don’t force. Just tune in and win. It’s Miley Cyrus and Naomi Campbell. Loop video, do your thing, let go, pose. I know I listened to it obsessively, one day, in my headphones, while walking fast. Fast. Fast. Fast. Fast. Fast. For an hour in a loop. Or more. Pose was, thereafter, in my ears for the entire day. Naomi. Pose. Something, something, violin. Pose. Violin, violin, violin. Pose. Lalala lala laallaa comes in. So. Pose. Full on everything. Pose. Pose. Pose. Pose Pose.
The truth puts you in your natural energy and vice versa. Discipline puts you in alignment and vice versa. Is this vice versa more impactful than we have ever given it credit for?
When you go, at 7 in the morning, to the local grocery store to get a watermelon, you know. You say good morning, there’s barely anyone in the store, it’s summer …and there are no watermelons?! The sunshine coming from outside is crisp and so is the short conversation about watermelons with the person working there. They have this vibe.
On the wall, right next to the front door at home. My brother’s Natasha and Inga, a while ago, saying this is the vibe, as I’m getting out into the world, every time.
It’s vice versa and you’re both dying to be each other’s vaccum cleaner the Monkeys are singing about in I Wanna Be Yours.
The watermelon is right here and it is better than I have ever imagined…
