Candy World

July 11, 2023

Every now and then say ’What the f*ck’. ‘What the f*ck’ gives you freedom. Freedom brings opportunity. Opportunity makes your future, said Miles Dalby to Tom Cruise.

Some movies seem to have been, especially, surfing through life only for you and them to find each other at the perfect time. Even my brother, in a conversation recently, was amazed by the fact that I hadn’t seen Risky Business and today, July 5th, is the day I saw it for the first time ever. I intentionally (and softly) refused to watch the trailer, as I do, kind of covered my ears whenever I heard details about it coming towards them. Why hadn’t I seen it? No idea. The whole family has always loved Tom Cruise. I, however, of course, knew about the dance. And those Wayfarers. The smile. 

Incredible, Risky Business also has a song that’s been following me since I’ve known myself. Whenever it started anywhere, I had a moment of tudududududududum on drums and everything. You know, when it’s up there. Tudududududududum. In my mind for sure, if not in real life, every time. I remember last time it happened with the whole fam in the car. It was dark, but it was dark because the sun hadn’t come out yet, it was that early in the morning that we had to get to the airport and leave on a vacation together. My brother was driving his car I really like – spaceship meets music studio – and this song started to, easily, invade it through the speakers. It was perfect. I interrupted the discussion in a rather warm, almost silent – as if no one wanted to wake up anyone although we were all tidy because we like tidy in the morning – tone going on and said Ooh, one of the most interestingly (or beautifully) constructed songs ever. My brother swiftly looked at me, in the rearview mirror, and, in a calm tone, said Agreed.

It has haunted me as it has probably haunted you, we live on the same planet. Or do we? I know that any time I heard In The Air Tonight, I thought – even if it was just a rocket kind of thought – about what was happening in the moment or what I was in or what I was thinking about, feeling. Tudududududududum.

Had I seen the movie earlier on, the memory of the moment the song enters the movie would have, most definitely, come up, at least for a fraction of a second. But who is going to bring the moment the song enters the movie in the moment from now on? You with me? It’s the beauty of art. Vitality. Yum.

Yes, one might see or hear or live some of the most unexpected things when parents are away on holiday. It might very well be connected to the fact that I, for instance, am so happy when my parents are on holiday, to know that my parents are happy on holiday and my brother is, too.

Or when you get high on music.

Let you hair down, gurl is what it feels like Chino, my friend’s dog, wants to tell me – I’m laying, with Jay, my friend, on a blanket, in the grass, with our heads on the ground, next to some fairy tale trees, in full Summer – every time she starts to check me out from a distance, circle me around, almost whistle innocently while doing so and, as soon as she senses I divert my attention to something else other than her playfulness, bam, she, very smoothly, in a matter of seconds, grabs my hair with her mouth and pulls out the hair tie out of it, with her teeth. Like a pro, it almost doesn’t hurt. It makes you, instantly, think of someone you love stroking your head and the tingly thingies in your stomach. Chino makes sure the hair tie is in your sight, though, she knows how important a hair tie is to you. A hair tie around your wrist if not wrapping around your hair. 

The other day, my friend Andreea asked for the hair tie I had around my wrist. I wasn’t using it. I missed a breath at the thought alone of being about town without a hair tie around my wrist, but then thought of just how much you want to tie your hair and you have no hair tie on you, oh no, so I gave it to her wholeheartedly. In the breath that I’d missed, however, I acknowledged to myself that 1. I’m heading home, I’m safe, 2. I just got a new bunch of the same hair ties I like (because they’re the hair ties I’d discovered last the longest, don’t break when I need them the most, don’t have any unnecessary artifice to them – can an artifice be ever necessary?), the things you can buy versus the things you can not, because, miraculously, hair ties somehow always find ways to travel the world and finally, while blowing a kiss 3. I’d just got the hair tie to match my wrist perfectly, it’s that balance I’d been, patiently, achieving. Not too tight, not to loose, a hair tie that ties your hair perfectly, too, and boom, they’re on a new trajectory. And so are you. Mwa!

A special sort of scream pierces through my awareness and takes my mind off of anything. I’d just got out, in the sunset sky, on the bedroom balcony, when the scream matched the live painting unfolding in front of my eyes. On a not so distant office building roof, a couple of seagulls were chirping so loud it transformed into screaming. I could see their beaks, in profile, wide open, hear the scream and then, only for a split second sense the silence as their beaks, only for a split second, closed to begin, immediately, again. They were screaming while intensely starring at their chicks, in the not so distant air, learning to fly. Screaming that sounded like calling and calling and calling. And calling. As soon as the chicks landed back, next to their parents, the screaming stopped. It was fascinating. But then a chatter started. Love is constant communication and adjustment. Further instructions, chirp, chirp, chirp and off into the sky the parents flew. Almighty. Flying around in circles, above the roof, in the not so distant air. Flying. Flying. Guess what the chicks were doing this whole time. Yup, screaming, their beaks, in profile, wide open while intensely starring at their parents, the vavavoom. But in a very cute way, babies way. You could tell by their voices they were babies. Adorable babies watching their parents flying around. There was no one else in our spectrum. So peaceful in the sunset sky. Birds living a healthy family life. The big seagulls then landed back only to encourage – this is what another round of chirping sounded like – the little seagulls to fly with them. And off into a flock they did. Fearlessly, although we all know what that feels like at first. Chattering teeth emoji, but hey, who’s flying now? They all are. The parents continued the screaming while flying, I bet they wanted their kids to be safe and make their own way in life. Maybe it’s their way of sweet talking, but it was very loud in the sky. Sweet, but loud. Loud, but sweet?

Just like life keeps calling you.

Giving you options. The choice is yours. You’d better buckle up and get ready for the thrill. Laugh. Scream. Learn to fly. Into ecstasy. All that jazz. Kind of like driving. Sometimes, you’re with a bunch of people, sometimes you’re with someone in particular and you are in it alone, for sure, too. Or in the first place? Kind of like flying. A plane. Like Tom Cruise does. Flying planes in American Made or in every other movie he made and then some. Sure, first, you have to make the choice to get in the car or not, on the plane or not. Either way, become a bird.

Every time you choose yourself, life throws a party for you. Is there anything better than you choosing your truth? Hm. Same. I mean, yes, it is. It only gets better all the time. It’s something that your souls just knows. I have seen bears before, in bright daylight, from the car, or, as a child, at the circus, but to hear a bear in his own environment, late at night, breathing almost next to me, on a full moon, is something that shakes something in your stomach. It’s the same something. It was 1:46am – I checked the time to maybe get an idea of what that something could be – when I, suddenly, woke up and up on my bum, in the bedroom upstairs. The silence in nature is a thing already, but to feel this thing in your stomach is something. The bear must’ve sat in the garden next to ours at the cabin in the mountains, I couldn’t see him, it was too dark, the kind of darkness you can clearly see the stars in, and I didn’t want to abruptly cut it off with a flashlight. He was growling and making sounds I’ve never heard or felt in my stomach before. It was – I just can’t say terrifying – thrilling and peaceful at the same time. It was something. 

It’s funny how subtly it came to me, in an instant, this moment I, so unexpectedly, lived. I laugh a little whenever I remember about it. So, it involves someone else, not in particular, but still, someone else. Morning, breakfast, beach, music, water, new people, mixed everything (in my mind, at the time, but hey, beach, water, sun). Yada, yada, yada, a beautiful afternoon going into an amazing sunset, all from the comfiest sun beds facing the sun, the vibe was electrifying, in a very chill way, is what I felt on the inside, but, due to yada, yada, yada, was under the impression that I had to take care of… things. The things that I thought were mine to be taken care of not only were not mine to be taken care of, but also weren’t even things I liked. Well, that’s why they were not mine. There were, however, things I did like. Meeting a chill (so chill) couple that exuded this relaxation the three of us, naturally, sank into and talked about everything – the cool lady and I, in particular – was one. Vibes. Cocktails. No bulls*it, no nothing. They were my little boat – Joel: Porsche. There is no substitute. Miles: F*ck you – detaching from the big boat and taking me to the sea. For a minute. I say the big boat, but what I mean is this beautiful – I didn’t even bother to know the name of – hotel poolside. It was a beach day that rolled into things. But this is not the moment I, so unexpectedly, lived and laugh a little whenever I remember about. I mean, this is one, too, but here I go. 

We’re on the big boat and amongst us, the crowd, there was this guy, this someone not in particular, but, still, someone. We all got high on music. But, of all, he was the only one not to engage – at some point, that perfect point – in anything that might have disturbed his peace, his living in the moment. We don’t really need to – I know I don’t want to – specifically, name what that thing was. All I knew was that it was precisely what I felt in that moment. Felt. In my stomach. I had my sunglasses on, my body seemed relaxed, but something about that thing felt extra. Good. Complete? It’s not about that. It’s about a choice. A choice felt different. He chose himself. Presumably, the things to be taken care of were for all to take care of. He took care of himself first. You do you, you choose you, same, is what we’re, definitely, talking about here. Not him, not her, not them.

It’s funny how subtly it came to me, in an instant, because it also happened in an instant. A couple of summers ago. I’d withdrawn from the crowd, for a second. No, I was still in the crowd, but completely laid my back on the sun bed. Breathing. Looking at the sky from underneath the sunglasses. The shadow started to feel so good. You know what a shadow feels like on a July afternoon going into evening. It was so comfy. I started to focus on the sound of the waves in the distant horizon and beyond. Closed my eyes. Stayed there. Slowly leaned my head to the left. Slowly opened my eyes only to see this image that has just, now, made me smile again. Laugh for a bit, I admit. The guy was so relaxed, probably the most relaxed guy in that moment in time, he was not that far away, he was just near, he was kind of in the crowd, but not really. A couple of large sun beds away from my sun bed, let’s say. But he was so far away into the universe. You know when it’s the real deal, you cringe when it’s not. He had his sunglasses on, too, obviously. Everyone had (but, hm). I instantly felt Oh yeah. Precisely where I was at. My every inch plus that extra one. He made his choice, I made mine, but it wasn’t really (really, really, really) mine, that’s the thing. Sparklingly, my soul has known things for sure, all along, and that’s the thingy thing. Not only to stay true to myself, but to live in the moment entirely which is, in fact, same, so that’s why my passion for style. And instants. 

Some might say that everyone entertaining everyone was living in the moment, some might say that the guy was, who cares what anyone says, anyway? 

This is not about anything romantic, this is just human. Even if from a couple of large sun beds away. We did, however, intersect, later on, as we were kind of facing each other at the big table, in the evening. Couples, couples, yay, yes, but when you’re in a couple you feel alone, it gets weird. Feelings start to feel contradictory. Yada, yada, yada. Good times mixed with really weird vibes. Something just felt terrifyingly wrong as my soul was partying all along. I was feeling so good inside, yet something made me realise that I wasn’t. Fully. Inside. Outside. That’s why the weird. I’d decided, a while ago, not to compartmentalise and, so, appreciate that everyone’s doing their best. It’s your choice to see if you feel fabulous when matching their best or not. If your inside matches the outside. Romantic.

Anyway. This guy was still wearing his sunglasses, at the dinner table. We, indeed, could still see the sun in the distant horizon, but you know how orangey and red the sun turns around 9pm, how all shades of blue and a little bit of pink and purple and maybe some cotton candy clouds make up the sky and they all sink into the sea, go to sleep, only for us all to look at the stars, the moon… I even snapped my fingers – on the inside – at the same time as I laughed about it – on the inside, still, jees, see? – and thought man, I would like my sunglasses on now, too. It felt good knowing that at least he had his on. I had the champagne silk yellow dress I made for myself on, yes! However, some weird things were going on at the table and I believe he noticed them. He was so chill in his chair. I thought I was, too. I know I was trying to match my chill to my chair when he asked me, out of nowhere, Are you still high? In the warmest, coolest tone. It felt like an Are you ok? that came through as a truthful and trustworthy You are fine, chillax. It was the first time, that day, I made the conscious choice to not care about anything else and, peacefully, but thrillingly said Af. That felt like a truthful and trustworthy Thanks.

Coming forward from the heart is what breaks through and it is what makes my heart skip a beat no matter the circumstances. If it’s not coming from the heart, I feel it, too. Balloons everywhere help, but it’s coming from the heart that really strips off any barriers. When someone sees the real them, you and you see the real you, them, you both make a choice that feels good. It’s the little things and the grand things. It feels like we’re just getting started here, over and over again, but this is what life is all about, so. Flying. Work in progress. Fun!

We sprint and we chill, equally as grand.

Isn’t peace of mind – a subtle power – so sexy? It just smittens you. Sometimes instantly, just like it did in childhood, sometimes deep into some grown up situation, in the rain or the eye of the storm. You feel something. Something that’s so personal, it becomes universal. That’s why that guy, in that moment, was so far away into the universe. I don’t, to the day, know anything about him, but that’s another thing I like to stumble across over and over. I don’t have to. It’s what it feels like in the moment that has the potential of a good moment. I wrote Complete? earlier. Truly satisfied just came to mind. Same. And Womack & Womack’s Candy World. I read somewhere that butterflies, fireflies and ladybugs are sacred. I believe that’s why. It’s the loooooooove! 

If you can’t say it, you can’t do it.

Hey, this is Cristina Pavelescu wearing a music cassette sweater, decoding (life) style and writing from wherever, yet always living in OZ, a world I invite you into. To smile in front of our screens (and live one day), put any kind of questions, answer in writing (or imagination) and marvel at fashion which is, in fact, style.


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