If It’s Real And Interesting, You Can Find The Funny

May 23, 2023

And this is the way it’s gonna be. We’ll start by saying this just rocks. Rocks as in rock as in strength. Rocks as in rock and roll as in fun. Rocks as in cool as in ice. Ooh, ice, yes, here we go. It’s only cold for a couple of seconds, but hot is how it’s gonna go. Go, go, go. People, at times, seem to ignore it. People, at times, get angry that you don’t ignore it also. I was so calm when someone, a couple of years ago, bitterly, told me Oh, you should stop listening to this thing (pointing at my stomach) so much. Oh, how I did not like the taste of that in my stomach. A lightning struck inside. A whole lot of feelings and thoughts flooding into my entire being, all at once. 

I felt people being puzzled by it before, but it takes someone to actually say it to your face for you to realise just how invincible you truly feel thanks to it precisely. Thanks! You don’t even need to fight back. Obviously. You’re a lover, not a fighter, but you’re going to fight for love, roar. In your own unique way. Doing it even when nobody knows about it alone makes you feel good. 

Luckily, I love the ocean way too much not to let it overflow allover, all at once, also. See? It gets majestic. It’s what intuition feels like. The thunder smells like. The sun on your skin. Yes, I can definitely do that. What? Trust. Go with the flow.

You know when I don’t know what you call that is yours and when I don’t know what you call that is not. Picture Miuccia Prada, her style is inimitable, one can’t say anything about it because it is so naturally hers, it’s untouchable, but picture the I don’t know what you call that, too. When you know for sure. You like, you feel right, your stomach is free. Metaphorically, of course, but very much literally also. You taste it and, and, and it’s love on the brain, boom. Boom, boom. 

You know for sure, but, all of a sudden, it explodes, implodes, and you think F*ck, what’s that? That was unexpected, but it’s getting hot, remember. The ships that seemed unbreakable, the love that you, not for a bit, questioned in a way even you, later on, stand in stunned silence yourself, beside your stomach. And that’s something! So, you really are like that, I don’t know what you call that that. Fortunately, your gut’s always been subtly pulsing. It’s the death and rebirth you might’ve heard about or not, but it surely feels like that. You can’t put a finger on it, nor do you feel any need to, you don’t feel anything. The time seems to have stopped. Now what? Time for a hug. You might call it change now, but back in the moment, you didn’t think about change. You just lived it, it’s just as natural as the waves washing over the shore is. It’s only natural. Natural, natural, natural, yes, natural. Nature.

And sometimes I get so scared of what I can’t understand, but here I am, next to you. All these flowers around me got me in awe. My dad tells me that this specific kind of wild daises open themselves up, every day, as soon as the sun comes up and close themselves down as soon as the sun goes down. They don’t open up at all if they can’t see the sun. The back of their petals, the tip of the back of their petals is pink, the lively kind of pink. The birds are chirping af. My dad again comes in, he tells me it’s because of the season we’re in, it’s mid May. It’s their, ta-da, mating season. They declare their love, they decide on where to settle their nest, we’re all assisting a symphony in open air, at sunset. All pink now, wink, on a blanket, in the garden. The scent and petals falling from the blossoming cherry tree I’m under are everything. Just as it is this mental note I took on my dad’s birthday, this mid May. His wish came true.

Other flowers open up as soon as the sun goes down. Seeing a flower opening up, in front of your eyes, in a couple of seconds, and smelling in a way that makes you want to hug it, every day in Summer, at sunset – because this is what a flower in our garden does – is what this change from above starts to feel like. Usually, they turn a camera on to film the flower blossoming and fast forward, later on, for you to see it in a couple of seconds instead of hours, days, years and so on. To see something wonderful open. Let’s take cherries, for instance. You might skip the video altogether and die to eat the cherry. See? Hot. I feel you. But when you see something transforming right in front of your eyes, let’s take kittens getting out of our Loona, for instance, a sort of sparkle comes through. Comes true. It’s everywhere, really, when you stop for a second and see.

What do you think about the whole belly, in plain sight, for the whole world to see? is what a friend, casually, asked me on our casual last Friday evening. I hadn’t given it much thought, but I knew I liked it, always felt like saying hi. What does it mean when a woman decides to pose naked with a baby inside her belly? When a woman carries her baby in plain sight for the whole world to see? We were outside, watched the sunset, the breeze helped us see the entire spirit of an interesting Spring day, slowly vanishing into the night. Sun, clouds, sun again, clouds, the wild daisies must’ve gone mad, but so did the clouds, the mad clouds that seemed to have come out of nowhere, boom, strong, strong wind and, boom, it all calmed down. We’re on the terrace.

A beautiful, naked, round belly instantly comes to mind. Then, the word art does. I think Isn’t this the biggest work of art ever? and say Hm, I’ve never actually said it out loud, not even in my own mind, ever. I don’t know what’s being said, but what I do know is that knowing a baby is inside a belly and the belly is out there for everyone to see, feels a bit like Fontana di Trevi. I go on. Peacefully. The sky feels light even though it’s getting dark. Just thinking about the entire process blows my mind. The transformation a woman’s body is able to perform is magical. It’s an artistic moment in time. Poetic. Supremely powerful. For the mom and for everyone who sees it. On the cover of a magazine, on your friends’ couch, in the eyes of someone you adore, random in the street or, you know, the Super Bowl. It’s her and her baby in… Her. Whatever the mommy feels like being when she’s with her baby, babies, whatever the relationship she intends on having with her baby, I don’t know what you call that. And it’s easier for the daddy to touch the belly whenever. Basically, the baby is naked all the time, you know what that feels like, free, and is in plain sight, for the whole world to see. The mom listens to the relationship the baby wants to have with them, also. Honesty is essential to making your relationship as strong as it can be. And the belly is so close to the stomach. Wink. In tune. Enjoying fully every moment. It’s lifestyle. From the womb, it seems. 

Whether you want a baby or not, you still came from a womb, you yourself were a baby once.

A discussion I, often, have with mom is about the baby deciding on the relationship the baby wants to have with the world and the relationship the baby decides to have with themselves. We’re a continuous work of art. Grateful for everything our parents and everyone around us did for us and to us, regardless of conditions or society, we’re all here doing our best. Transforming into the grown-ups we’ve always dreamt to be. A grown-up is just a synonym for a baby forever transforming. If you’re going to pretend like you don’t care, don’t look up, but fun fact, Miu Miu herself has an office slide that begins next to her desk and ends in the outdoor courtyard of her work place.

Hey Siri, pause

Siri paused.

In fact.

Hey Siri, stop.

There’s nothing to stop here, literally said Siri.

Meeting someone new feels like riding the slide every time. A clean slate for you to begin anew. It’s the very you and the very them in the very moment. A perfect opportunity to introduce strangers straight into your heart (because hey) and climb up mountains with slash for – luckily, you enjoy being physical and a good view – only to, then, learn how to build a separate room for them in it. But you saw yourself in a brighter light. For you. For your light.

Recently, I came across a similar situation, life is funny, life is real and interesting. The title belongs to Midge in a brand new episode of The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel. This time, your light throws a party inside of you, as you look fear in the eyes, they try to take I don’t know what you call that out of you, your light keeps on getting brighter and brighter, this peace you have inside is having a blast, thank goodness you like to learn and, boom, compassion wraps it up. It’s not about you, it’s about them, but it’s also about you, roar. This time, I know exactly where to go. Me. Naked. Free. 

Then, they say you’re arrogant, very much to your surprise (or not) again, but if focus looks like arrogance to them, then so be it. You know who you wanted to be, who you are. We’re all human here sharing an electric, suave force. It’s invisible and it might be what makes it electric and suave, at the same time, in the first place. Just like the touch of the perfect breeze is. You know? You’re in plain sight, in front of the sun, and the perfect breeze comes in. Ooh.

With others, it’s forever and that’s when you know you found someone really special. Chemistry. Electric. Suave. Force. Or you know, it’s what family is to begin with.

Question marks show up with them, too, from time to time or all of the time, some of them breezy, some of them hardcore, it’s when intuition is flying all over the place, it’s the embracing kind of wind meant to connect the two of you in the very moment. Ideally, you both feel it in the very moment. You’re happy either way and you power through. It’s the people that mean forever to you. You take the responsibility for you. We’re responsible for everything that happens to us. It only makes sense, everything happens for us anyway. 

Few things that feel hardcore come close to a hardcore discussion with your family, bestie, soul. A discussion like I don’t know what you call that is a force on its own. Few things rise above it. And dance. Have faith in the dots.

I was eleven or something and singing this song, totally in the mood, moving my hands accordingly and everything, when my brother told me something. I don’t remember his words exactly, but I remember the look in his soft, teary eyes. He must’ve been hungover post one of his parties I must’ve assisted at, without a doubt. It was one of our things. The girls that liked him a lot used to put me to bed and I, of course, used to get out of it, you know the drill. The baby sister kind of vibe, aw. Aw for me, not so much for him then, but I guess we’ve always considered that honesty is essential to making our relationship as strong as it can be, so. It was Mia going Giiirl, pow-pow-pow-pow, you’ll be a womaaan soon. Anytime, anytime this song pops out, my brain, even if only for a second, goes to that moment in time. It could’ve slid away, but I was there. And so was he. A moment for us to just be. 

When you know something for sure and it clashes, what’s up with that? With I don’t know what you call that. The focus sharpens, you’re done with what anyone is saying if what anyone is saying doesn’t feel right to your gut, you act quickly, you don’t overthink, it’s all clear, all the decisions you took got you here today, innumerable moving dots of bright light, hot, someone plus someone make love, roar, two natural orgasms later, fun inside the womb and, boom, baby, hi!

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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