Creativity Quote by Regina Spektor

Spektor’s line moves like one of her songs: it starts in a whisper and suddenly vaults into the cosmos. The clunky, honest phrasing - “skipping over the city” and that wonderfully awkward “far-away-from-space experience” - is the point. She’s not trying to sound like a philosopher. She’s trying to describe what happens when your inner life refuses to stay politely scaled.

“Skipping over the city” reads as a deliberate refusal of the mid-range setting: the everyday social world, the identifiable map of neighborhoods, politics, and scenes where you’re supposed to locate yourself. Instead she jumps from “very personal things” straight to “the world.” That leap captures a modern kind of intimacy: emotions that don’t just belong to you, but instantly feel planetary. In an era when a private thought can be amplified into a public statement, Spektor frames scale itself as unstable.

The subtext is both ambition and discomfort. Going from “internal experience” to something “giant” hints at the artist’s compulsion to translate feeling into big themes - war, mortality, God, history - even when the translation feels almost comically inadequate. The phrase “far-away-from-space” suggests she’s reaching for the sublime while staying suspicious of grandiosity. It’s cosmic yearning with a self-edit button.

Contextually, it fits Spektor’s persona: a songwriter who toggles between diaristic detail and surreal, global imagery. The intent isn’t to chart a clean journey outward; it’s to admit the messy, impulsive way art collapses distance, turning the private into something huge and slightly ungraspable.