Wednesday, 28 January 2015

Apropos of nothing. 28.01.15

The most amazing thing that ever happened to me to date was Nick Cave stopping to take my picture. I was thankfully rendered speechless by amazement, because the only words that came to mind were "You are YOU!", which, well, were better left unsaid.

Nick Cave is not one of my heroes; he's far too dark and dangerous for that. He often takes things so far that he scares me, probably because I find those extremes incredibly alluring. He's one of my favourite geniuses, though, a true artiste and, I suspect, one of the most alive people in the world. Twice, at major crossroads in my life, his music has caused me to choose utterly unwholesome intensity and joy over balance and bliss.  So far, I'm thankful to him, though time (or it running out on me, intensity often having a cost) might change that.

He didn't stop to take my picture, strictly speaking. I was working in circus, standing by the exit just before the end of the show, wearing a red-and-gold uniform which was dazzling on some people but made me look like a trained monkey, and holding a basket full of spinning lights.  I suspect it was the lights that attracted him.  Hell, I don't know if he could even see my face behind the lights in the gloom of the bigtop.  Nonetheless, he bloody stopped right in front of me, leveled his camera at my face, took a photo, and then promptly walked away.

Once I regained the power of speech, all I could say was "Nick Cave took my picture!"  on repeat. Problem was, nobody there knew who Nick Cave is. Having exhausted all possible people on the show, I ended up ringing my non-circus friends just so I could share the experience. It wasn't just fangurling, though there certainly was an element of that. The world had been turned upside down. Me taking Nick Cave's picture = normality.  Nick Cave taking my picture = you've fallen down a rabbit hole, Alice dear.

That's the thing, though: I had found that glorious rabbit hole all by myself, and bravely/stupidly went right down it. I'd put myself in that circus, in that uniform and behind that basket. I took all the steps that led me to that time and place. Had I not followed my bliss, had I not cheerfully chosen the road less travelled, not only I would have missed on a cubic fuckton of fun and not-so-epic adventure, but I wouldn't have experienced that nearly-glorious moment. Everyday magic is out there, but you've got to put yourself in its path.

So was Nick's action a sign, a reward, the universe wanting to prove to me that I'd done the right thing? I seriously doubt it. If it was anything more than a coincidence, it was a reminder of the fact that the man's a person and does what people do. It was cool, though, and sometimes that's all that matters.

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