this film breathes—it appreciates the mundane, the wonder of an ordinary day. there are moments when Kiki pauses to appreciate her surroundings. the ocean, the skyline, the clock tower, the invisible wind blowing across a billowing hilltop. it's an embodiment of the Mary Oliver's greatness sentiments to be present, to give yourself wholly to nature and its capacity for healing. like an echo: You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.

Kiki is exceptional not because she's a witch that can fly, but because she's a young girl brave enough to navigate the unknown with courage and kindness. i find so much comfort in this film only partially because i've seen it so many times; i'm drawn to it in the first place because it radiates warmth, forgiveness, fellow feeling. seeing this on a Big Screen was thrilling, the theater awash in darkness and color and such kind grace surging with all the might of the bravest teenage witch.