Selamat malam, sayang
Vitvitskaia is merely a symbol. A metaphor. A symbol representing an 'objective woman'. I have always marveled over the role of 'female', the 'feminine', the 'passive' force, as some esoteric teachings call. There is something about it that stirs me unceasingly. Without the passive the active has no juxtaposition. And there could be no 'neutralizing'. It always seems to me that 'active' is always celebrated and the 'passive' pushed aside. The 'passive', for me, is the door to the subtle. The departure from outward-exclusive attention into the internal.
It happens quite unintentionally for me, this collection of pieces. Now it seems like a story. There is a continuity.
But I guess I'll leave it at that.