francis ford coppola

i don't know what to say, really. i mean, there was the moment i met him when he repeated my name back to me musingly.
"nathania...i haven't heard that one before." yes, and i'm happy to hear that.
"i understand it's a city in israel, but my parents were thinking more russian."
we got into the big escorting suv.
a block down the road.
"nathania...i just met a girl named nathania. and suddenly i see, just how beautiful a name can be." {to the tune of maria from west side story}

magic.

pure magic.

after i jokingly say no one will believe me if i tell them he sang to me, he continues with a synopsis of war and peace {since natasha is of the similar vein} then continues with a compare and contrast to anna karenina when i mention that is the one book of tolstoy i have yet to read. he meandered through the topic charmingly and i listened with a surprised smile on my face and as many interjections as i could comfortably and politely manage.

later, while i missed my one chance to really talk to him {rats} i did have a small moment when we were waiting for his wife to show up at the hotel. i happened to glance over at him and he was looking at me. i mean, really looking at me. i made eye contact. and held it. past that moment we westerns consider long enough to be comfortable and polite. and when we crossed that subtle threshold together there was that slight shift and quiet acknowledgment of two human beings meeting each other on another level. i see you seeing me, and it's nice to meet you. again.

and that was it.

and yet, not.

but it's enough for now.