Lera

What are your aspirations?
I aspire to what my body asks, she said, linking her hands behind her head.
And how does it ask you?
Affectionately.

Is there something you feel is missing in your life?
Yes, a grip on the material world.
Interesting. Can you explain?
I don’t know how to make money yet, she replied, sliding down the sofa and gazing out the window. It’s like I’m floating in the clouds, and money is this elusive prey on the ground. Sometimes I wonder if I need it at all. But then I think—if I drift too far, I might become an urban madwoman. By the way, they fascinate me. She touched the sofa lightly with her fingers, her black-painted nails tracing its texture.

What’s the most important lesson life has taught you?
She grinned. There are many, but the latest was not to live in Moscow, she said, ending with a brief, nervous laugh.

What was that lesson about?
Not to stay in a place where I feel joyless.
Could you feel joyless and then joyful in the same place? Like when the seasons change?
I might feel joyless in Paris, but never because it’s Paris. She sat up straighter.

What’s the hardest decision you’ve ever made?
I always choose the easy ones.
Was it easy to leave Moscow?
Absolutely.
How did you end up there?
I followed my boyfriend.
Did you realize right away you didn’t like it?
Yes. Initially, we planned to stay for a few months before moving on. After a year, I went on vacation, she smiled shyly, as if confessing a guilty pleasure. And I decided I’d never go back.

What do you like about Paris?
I like what’s happening here, with the people. I enjoy witnessing it, being part of it.

What does love mean to you?
She paused. The ability to give.
To give what?
Anything. But that’s not love itself, just the act of love. What love is—I don’t really know.

When was the last time you cried?
When a girl at work corrected my writing about kisses. It felt like she walked into my house, rearranged everything, replaced the beautiful with the ugly, and left as if she’d never been there!

Why do you write?
Because I’m very good at it.

What other talents do you have?
I have a lot of feminine energy. Though it’s more a gift than a talent.

What’s feminine energy?
I can make you feel good. With me, time stops.
Her word “you” touched my ears as if she had reached out and caressed them with her fingers.

What do you believe in?
I believe we live only once, and that’s wonderful.
What’s happening now has never happened before and never will again. Each moment is unique.
That’s beautiful. I love it.

Where do you see yourself in ten years?
In a bathrobe, barefoot, at my own hotel, surrounded by nature.
Is that your dream?
Yes. To teach people how to rest, to stop rushing, to feel like there’s no need to go anywhere.

‘No need to go anywhere.’ That suits you well. I’d be glad to tattoo this for you.
I like that! But my final tattoo has to be the word ‘Paris.’ My numerologist says I shouldn’t get tattoos, but I’d decided on this one before he told me. And he couldn’t explain why they’re forbidden. Do you smoke?
Do you want me to smoke with you?
No, I just forgot my cigarettes. You said, ‘no need to go anywhere,’ right?
Yes.
The other day, I was thinking about the difference between ‘need to’ and ‘have to.’ She picked up her phone, scrolling. ‘Need to’ is about something missing that you once had. ‘Have to’ is asking for what you lack. Let’s get coffee!
Impulsive, dynamic, turbulent—she was all of this.

After coffee, we returned to the studio, and she asked me to tattoo “Paris” on her pubic area. I sketched the design, and she stripped naked—perhaps to better visualize how the tattoo would align with her body—and stood before the mirror, deep in thought as she examined her reflection.