“Sometimes we have love and sometimes we lose love. Sometimes love can hurt terribly like a deep wound. In our world we have lots of ups and downs, pleasures and pains. But that’s life and we learn to accept the bad with the good. Without the bad times we wouldn’t appreciate the good times. Life is precious and I cherish every single moment.”
I honestly don’t know how I can frame my adoration for Takeuchi Naoko’s mind-spawn turned franchise, for all its incredible depth, for its lush manga artwork, for its ability to make the leap from paper to computer animation, for its life lessons and positive messages, for its unforgettable cast, and especially for the mere existence of Usagi as a character.
I don’t know how I can explain it to anyone. I just can’t, because my eyes brighten to a strong wood brown and I just can’t stop smiling. I feel high.
I can’t imagine growing up without Usagi. She ate nachos with me and fed my inner glutton. She was there and cried with me when my boyfriends dumped me. I jumped into her home with Mama Ikuko and Shingo and co when my own family was too turbulent. She, along with the inner senshi, consoled me when friends left without any word. She was there in the most difficult moments of my life. She’s hasn’t always been with me, obviously, but she’s been everywhere with me for half a decade, even though we met ten years ago on my television screen.
She breathes through me even if she isn’t physically alive. Or, rather, it’s not that she’s not alive; she just doesn’t exist in this plane, but she exists. She lives in me.
Sailor Moon helps me live. Sailor Moon helps me realize what an amazing gift it is to be alive. Sailor Moon tells me that my life and everything that I care for is worth it. And Sailor Moon tells me to be happy with myself, to be at peace and kind and loving to myself.
I don’t need a rod or a compact or a Ginzuishou to tell me that hope is alive. I know it is. Our hope is our strength, our power. Ours, ours, ours. When there’s hope, we survive and replenish one another.
Björk has said on occasion that her album Vespertine is about being domestic, and going inwards towards oneself. Vespertine, which was originally titled Domestika, was “
Debut reminds me of being one’s own friend, leaving the rural life for an urban existence. It reminds me of drinking straight from the bottle of life, being solely in the present. Notwithstanding the sepia feel of the album cover, I always imagine the colors of the songs to be of a strong, prismic variety (like the base colors for Adobe Suite icons). Debut reminds us to be silly and grounded in ourselves, pleasantly selfish!