Before there were vampires...

About a year ago I started having these weird Zombie dreams that puzzled me and (quite frankly) freaked me out more than just a little bit.  In a world inundated by vampires I kept asking myself, what's the deal with zombies who seemed to synchronistically be lurking around every corner in my cosmos.  After writing about it, talking about and just letting the dream simmer a little while, I decided to confront whatever subconscious issues I may or may not have with Zombies.  As a result I'm on a quest to view as many Zombie movies as I can stomach and chronicle them here:

The movie that started it all was Zombieland.

And I have to admit, it will probably always be my favorite.  I don't know if it was the stream of consciousness likeability of all the characters nicknamed by their hometowns, the holy grail quest for fresh twinkies or the truly useful 30 rules of survival, but sometimes during an apocalypse the only thing you CAN do is laugh when all the tears are gone.  That's universal, and probably list worthy.  Add the element of abandoned amusement park spelunking (zombie clown appearance notwithstanding) and you've got the odd elements of more nightmare fodder and sheer freakish delight.  Rating: 9/10 digits. (sorry I couldn't resist)

Zombieland was followed by a string of zombie don'ts including but not limited to:  AAAH! Zombies!  (supposedly told from the pov of zombies who incidentally do NOT have brains--enough said, not digit worthy at all!) Then there was The Crazies (the remake I was not crazy about) and several other "so bad they're supposed to be good" B zombie movies that were really ....just....bad that I was truly about to despair.

Then I met Abraham Lincoln versus Zombies.  Now this was *supposed* to be the summer of Abraham Lincoln Vampire Hunter, but really aren't we all tired of vampires?  Do we really have to hunt more? Can't Bella and Edward and their vampire spawn just fade into our collective consciousness? I think they can and Abe convinced me of that!  The Lincoln plagued by Zombies is a direct to dvd mockbuster made by my good friends at The Asylum.  I'm actually kindof an Asylum fan because they excel at B movies making them almost an art form.  I'll tell you truly, this movie makes you wonder about sitings of "modern day" zombies jacked up on bath salts.  The movie has a plot, twists history, has decent acting and most of all the zombie makeup is fantastic.  It's another well deserved 9/10.

Coming soon....a zombie love story, oh my!  My review of Warm Bodies...

 

 

While we are waiting for Warm Bodies, I'm also in the midst of watching what may be the most interesting twist on epic I've ever watched: The Walking Dead. This series is inspiring me to read the graphic novels also, so look for upcoming reviews of both here as well.



The space  above will be reserved for additions to my zombie movie collection. (Yes the Romero ones will be among them.)  Until then the following links are for the non-believers out there:

Modern Day Zombies:

The CDC has a Zombies 101 preparedness page.  My advice? Check out Columbus' 30 rules as well.

CDC's "official" reassurance there is no *known* virus causing people to be zombies.

Bath Salts? Really?  hmmmmmmmm

Zombies in History: (I'll resist posting a list of past presidents, rulers and the like here)

The top three zombie outbreaks in history.

Zombies, A Living History from The History Channel.

Zombies in Nature:

There's a fungus among us

Zombie Ants, yep they're real

Oh, and before I forget.....sweet dreams!



Death on a Pale Horse

ryder on a storm

death on a pale horse
whistled through my line of vision
a ryder on a stormy mission seeking
a slowly ripening image
of a numinous gathering storm
as I leafed beyond pages not well worn…

falling back to the middle I pondered…where are the other
three in apocalyptic allegories -- persuasion perverted?
am I missing some veiled trinity: grim gated, worried
in this prison on this palette?

And then I see the clockwise motion of the time suggested,
backwards in illusion where all the details
reek of realities obscured ~ seems
everything in this world's barren or inverted?

And so I search the darkened
varnished painted words suggested by
the suicide? The candlegrease and alcohol
all fat over the lean, reap the wanderer who
calls upon us all whether fair or mean?

Where is the justice in that?
are we all perverted lean layered over fat?
foolhardy temptation of a life half-lived
in desperation of a peace that’s never quite realized?

never lived?


Albert Pinkham Ryder "Death on a Pale Horse"

Sand Bucket List

Some people have ants in their pants, well I think I have sand... and always will. No matter how far "north" I've ventured in living I have sand in my shoes, in the bottom of my suitcase...and if I don't have it I'm thinking of it, like a little grain of sand always rolling back home towards my Gulf.  Sometimes, I'll be honest that makes me a little frustrated because there's so much sand in the world I'd like to wiggle my toes in.  So, as this pirate looks at her mid 40's approaching with a disturbing gallop, perhaps it's time to compile another list....a Sand Bucket list.  It's kindof like the leap list, but nitty grittier...

Tulum is one of my first sandy buckets.  I visited there several years ago while on a Mexican Cruise and felt instant de ja vous.... more eeriness...more delicious why?  The Mayan ruins there are amazing, but even moreso is view of the Gulf from the cliffs of this once thriving port.  Looking out to sea from the cliffs, I remembered being 11, reading any and everything and finding fascination in an old National Geographic that featured Tulum.  I couldn't wait to get back to the library and connect the dots, and sure enough it was there.  I want to revisit Tulum sometime, knowing what I know and feel 11 again...

Another sandy place calling me is the Southern part of England with what I've romantically envisioned in rows of welcoming beach huts and mystical fossil coasts  to explore.  The thing I love about England is its coastal diversity and being able to slip back in time for a moment imagining Victorian promenades and a gentler time than what we have now.  It's a place I love for many reasons and a home.

The amusement park junkie in me also has Coney Island on her list.  But it's not just that part of Coney I crave, it's the quirky nostalgia.  I'll be honest, I could google "best beaches" in any search engine and would find pristine beauty.  I don't want that...I KNOW that. I want the energy these places have.  I think Coney Island would be most fun during their annual Mermaid Parade, because I am a mermaid afterall, and these people make Mardi Gras seem boring!

My next beach is really a set of beaches AND I have plans to visit them in 2018.  It's Hawaii.  I grew up listening to my dad tell me of his adventures in Oahu when he ran away to join the Navy at 15.  I always loved his Hula Girl tattoo on his arm and imagine I may get a tattoo while there myself? I think that would be an amazing celebration of his energy and spirit that I'm so thankful is still going strong at 83.

My dad's tattoo is true Sailor Jerry old school style.  A funny story my dad tells about getting his tattoo is that since Sailor Jerry was booked, he opted for Gentle Tom...after telling this he always pauses and says, "he lied" with a smile on his face.  There's alot of that sand that comes from my dad.

Another thing my dad did once is buy an old camper, fix it up and park it on his old homeplace in the middle of 40 acres of planted pine. I've always loved camping and have many good memories of that camper and going camping with my aunt and uncle in their motorhome. Now that I have my  Beetle, I want a glamper to pull behind it!  Something like this:

 

 

So there's the glamper style of camping calling to me, but I'm also intrigued with roughing it? Could I do that? One of my favorite library directors is a very nice, quiet man whom I respect a lot.  His way of unplugging was hiking, and we spoke often about his adventures on the Appalachian Trail. I really want to hike some in Arizona, the Pacific Northwest, etc, so why not start in my own backyard in what used to be home:  North Georgia. It's where Jon hiked and I think I could do it too! So a huge leap will be trying this with my now 11-year-old.  I want to do a non-strenuous-moderate hike starting at Amicalola Falls hiking to the Len Foote Hike Inn and then hiking to Springer Mountain and back from the Inn. That's 19 miles in a weekend, but I think we could do it! It's not even officially the Appalachian Trail, but it's a start!

I've also always wondered what it would be like to see earth from space? Why not some spacedust to add to my sandbucket? Normally the price for private space touring is jaw-dropping, but this recently caught my eye as something to shoot for (kindof like the moon ;) )  Why not, dream big or go home...

http://www.npr.org/blogs/thetwo-way/2013/10/22/239869844/company-to-offer-75-000-balloon-rides-to-near-space

While I'm dreaming big I recently stumbled upon National Geographic Expeditions. These small eco tours go to some amazing places and offer once in a lifetime educational possibilities. I found the site while researching an Alaskan cruise for my cousin's family, but I think the Around the World by Private Jet would be more my cuppa? If I ever win the lottery, I'm so doing this!

Honestly, I plan on putting allkinds of sand in my sandbucket, from Outerbanks sand, to Welsh coasts with ruins much like my beloved Tulum keeping a watchful eye.  There's familiarity on a beach, no matter where in the world you go.  We all number as grains of sand on a beach, rolling together becoming less and more at the same time.  I look forward to every grain I collect, and who I collect with.

My Sandbucket List: (updated 02/10/15)

Tulum, Mexico
Glamper
Southern England
More Northern England and Wales
Ireland
Mardi Gras in New Orleans the weekend before Fat Tuesday to include Krewe of Isis, Krewe of Tucks for their awesome throws,  Endymion, Krewe of Thoth and Bacchus--thinking weekend before February 28, 2017 or February 13, 2018 or March 5, 2019.
Another Master's degree from Magdalen College, Oxford in Medieval Studies
Manhattan and Coney Island with Savannah (Christmas 2015 or Springbreak 2016)
Hawaiian Islands (early summer 2018)
Alaskan Cruise with Seattle, Vancouver Canada and possibly Oregon coast (summer 2016)
Mediterranean Cruise with land based Italy (summer 2019-20)
Puerto Rico (will probably do this as part of a Southern Caribbean cruise)
Northern California Coast / Pacific Coast Highway / Pacific Northwest including hikes : Hole in the Wall, Cape Falcon Trail, Angel's Rest (Mount Hood), Lava Canyon (Mount St. Helen's), Hoh Rainforest.  Maybe do this in tandem with seeing Dave @ The Gorge. 
Vegas with Grand Canyon, Utah and Disneyland (early summer 2015)
Burning Man (when Savannah is in college) http://blog.burningman.com/category/building-brc/
A Grand Canyon Guided Hike like this : http://www.wildlandtrekking.com/grand_canyon_tours.htm
or Savvy might prefer something like this http://www.wildlandtrekking.com/adventurehikes/grandcanyonlodgetour.html
Len Foote Hike Inn (Fall 2015?)

Lapland / Finland to view the Aurora from a glass igloo http://www.kakslauttanen.fi/en/accommodation/#glass-igloos

Nepal Trek, something like this : http://www.nychoagies.com/events/82831502/?eventId=82831502&action=detail

Balloon Near Space Ride  : http://www.npr.org/blogs/thetwo-way/2013/10/22/239869844/company-to-offer-75-000-balloon-rides-to-near-space

Around the world by private jet via National Geographic Expeditions http://www.nationalgeographicexpeditions.com/expeditions/around-the-world-jet-tour/detail

Visit all the Disney Parks, also stay extended in Orlando at WDW and do some behind the scenes tours, etc. like the Marceline Tour

still

for my dad, who's 84 today

when I am still
I can still smell
that beat-up truck
with sticky red seats
and the radio knobs that wouldn’t work
so I could fiddle with them all I wanted

driving home from school...

and when I am still
I can still smell the mockingbird house
we visited…catawpa tree’s shed
its wiggly worms…
sun beating down on a rotten red porch

craning my head, trying to see more between the boards

when I am still
I can still smell
your working skin
underneath green broadcloth…yellow rice
steaming on the stove and cornbread
muffins just like I like…with pea-juice on them

and the taste of the alabama dirt they grew in

when I am still
I will smell
your Sunday smell…and my daughter’s
little voice telling you
how sweet it is and how sweet your are….
in her princess world ~

when I am still
I will smell my daddy’s hugs….my father’s kiss
light on my lips
no matter where I am

growing, going…

still.

Glamorama

From our first ballerina jewelry box, we're smitten with a chest to store our treasures. Not long after getting my ballerina box, I discovered my mom's "old" jewelry box that had loads of bootie to be pillaged. From high school rings to rhinestone brooches to clippy earbobs that pinched but looked fabulous, I was hooked, and often visited there to encrust myself (even tho the metals and the funky smell of the waxed beads and celluloid sometimes left me feeling a little high ;) )

Now that box sits on my dresser along with a vintage red lacquer box that also belonged to her and still holds some old secrets from another life lived. And even though I have these wonderful treasure chests, I like to see my most favorite sparkly things! I'd always puzzled over how to make this work until I found glumpire's enid collins collection AND her pin mannequin.

Maybe it's the light from the window or the effortless way everything seems arranged but that photo was instant...irrevocable...mannequin LUST.  There, I've said it, disturbing tho that may sound?  Like many things in my now, make-do living arrangement (my daughter and I share a room, and did I mention she's 9) my mannequin doesn't exactly look *like* glumpire's?  Mine does have some lovely vintage brooches, but it's also dripping with an 80's charm necklace, some homeless baubles from fave etsy sellers that deserve more than a bottom of a drawer, a sparkly star headband and, last but not least a slightly rumpled silver glittered pink cowgirl hat to top things off.  And altho sometimes I'm frustrated that my room is camera shy for a reason, a thought occured to me? That mannequin may well one day be a memory for my daugher like my mom's boxes are for me?  So for now, I'm happy to share her.  Mean time seems like some others have had similar ideas for displaying collections.  And altho Velda's (glumpire's)  is certainly the first and best I've seen...these certainly are too worthy of the title glamorama. 

p.s. I think I feel a vanity post coming on....


~ Some other glamorama worthy mannequins ~



The Decorologist finds a great place to put her bling:

Jessica, from Such Pretty Things finds her daughter has inherited her love not only for vintage pins but the art of arrangement as well :)

and finally my not quite glamorama, but definitely mini me mannequin in the making...wish me luck!

lallyhoo, for daddy

there is nobody but nobody here wheedling me
in this blackberry lane growing wildly man-free
with thistles they bristle and bleed fingertip wine
stickly sickly blackberries with nectar divine ~

in here I’m transported back into the garden
the eden of dreams and innocence forgotten
but where there’s berries there’s snakes
grandma mo-mac used to tell me……….
so fear suddenly clouds my thought’s reverie:

I'm re-living the nightmare of old black miss sara;
hunched over just like this, nary a care.
without any warning, the rattler lisped at her face ~
in a death clutch they find them eternally embraced.

miss sara used to make a sweet lallyhoo.
that was Swahili for blackberry stew?
we ate till our smiles trickled tickly sweet
just like bob white quail who’s feast we repeat...till we bloat
after watching their gorge-stained, odd
blue and red throats…….

we miss her and the lallyhoo’s of summer's past time
bitter-sweet thistles and bristles and fingertip wine.
and, so I wish I could take those sneaky bites back?
erase all the sorrow and fear like grandma mo-mac’s.

And now I am hunched here low in this garden
my primeval, bruised, eden far from forgotten
and there’s nobody but nobody here wheedling me
in this blackberry lane growing wildly, finally free.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sylvia Plath's Blackberrying

Samantha's Song

Samantha's song...
walking off the world

so here I finally am
no hurry to find you there
walking off the world

seemingly finally heard
in the last breath drawn
with a steely smile…

I’ve wondered all the while
about this and that,
and I’m wild with all regret

that this has been so hard
for you and me….
this continued confidentiality?

Will April always be the
cruelest month for you and me?
seems like there’s an empty space of days…

when we sit down and chat in lost malaise
over early times, and better times
and the innocence of illusion…

of happily ever after times
and all the opportunities chosen
wasting, chasing away our youth.

I always feel the showers falling
in april’s soft sweet streets,
puddles reflecting a muzzled face…

and I’m so there finally,
no hurry to find you
walking off the edge.

Why do we do this?

why do we do this?

we do it because we love it.



this dance of words...

courage hurled upon a page,

persuading ourselves

despite our constant parade of humanity

that calamity of life is wonderful

amid those fragile shells



we tiptoe around ~

the silent sounding thoughts;

the echoes in our collective head…

that secretly dread the day when east meets west

without apology and we are facing

that omniscient horizon.



what will we find then?



when time no longer matters and the

days are scattered out before us

without that thin line that grounded us along?

how will our rhymes sound then

amid the babbling den of everything?



or nothing?



I’m wondering? will the temptation arise

to double back within the loop of space

erasing all the waiting from before and

seize the day’s open door of opportunity

in that stunning gift of frail human possibility

once we finally grow and know….



why we do this?

for those who like their numbers

for those who like their numbers
random
I ask:

Is your life like a Shirley Jackson story?


Because if it is, you might be missing
something………………………
like



a chance encounter
with a barefoot girl named sunny
dancing in the rain?



prepare your mind
to favor
chance



and dance with me
silly?
become a paradox in probability?



let’s gamble with the gods,
creating our own order in the chaos
in unpredictable abandon of the odds



erased of blind faith
we become wonder?



and instead of random,
we are tandem….



Shirley Jackson Bio

Randomness

Look before you leap...list

(or why I use elipses so often...)

This year's leap year and I saw a Honda commercial the other day touting a leap list. Like all good ads the term leap list kept rolling around in my head until I was forced... to...go... to the Honda website:

http://automobiles.honda.com/leap-list/my-list/?item=&goal=1

So the leap-list campaign is a pretty snazzy one aimed at 30/40/50 somethings who aren't quiiiiteeee ready to do a bucket list.  Before you make your next "leap" in life make a list of 10 things you'd like to do/accomplish.  The most popular ones are:

travel to Europe (done but always ready/willing/able to do more....)

learn a new language (hopefully to tie in with numero uno)

buy a house (i'd just like to QUALIFY to buy a house at this point)

start my own business (in a different economy)

live abroad for an extended period of time

go skydiving (would probably help with item number two, I'm sure I'd be saying a few new phrases)

run a half marathon (see my blogstream of consciousness remark above)

graduate college (overdone)

get married (getting married is easy, it's the staying that's the hard part)

run a marathon (would prolly entail more new phrases than number two or the half math, besides every morning by the time I do everything that has to be done before I sit down at my desk I feel like i've run the gauntlet)

So it hits me, aside from the running and skydiving, I've DONE alot of these things, and truly given my caffeine intake really don't need falling through the air with the greatest of un-ease added to MY list.  I suspect the people compiling the Honda list are slight bit younger than my demographic also...

So here's my list:

1.   publish something (this is akin to skydiving in my reality)

2.   take a consumer detox (especially challenging when you have a kiddo)...live on cash only

3.   speaking of, travel with her (and I don't just mean to Disney)....make it include sleeping under stars

4.  take her to Manhattan / Ellis Island  and look up our ancestors

5.   travel to Hawaii, walk on then collect some black beach sand

6.   take a Gondola ride with my love

8   cruise the MED

9.   meditate in sedona, then count shooting stars (see 3)

10.  swim with dolphins

11. roadtrip for at least two weeks with no destination planned

12.  ufo watch out west on the ET highway

13. walk in a crop circle or three

14.  visit arecibo (yes CONTACT is one of my favorite movies)

15. get the tattoo

16. rock a bikini

17.  practice yoga daily

18.  drink in Doheny and Nesbitt's in Dublin

19.  take my daughter Savannah to Savannah

20. see the pyramids and cruise the Nile

21.  eat at an automat in Toykyo

22.  live transparently while retaining my southern belleness

23.  own a home that is a home (that's WAY different from buying a house)

24.  learn to ride a bike (secret shame, enough said)

25.  cook...and enjoy the results

26  climb to the top of a Mayan temple

27. meet a tibetan sherpa

28.  see billy joel in concert one more time (sing LOUD)

29.  karaoke in japan, visit harajuku

30.  take really good photos of it ALL (except below)

31.  make love with my love in a wheat field

32.  sleep in a haunted castle; i'd love to see a ghost

33.  spend a few months in an ashram



I will say this,  my biggest leaps are the people I love and everyday magic moments with them... THOSE are the things layered in my elipses...my pauses as I'm gathering thoughts....and why I use them so often...

what's on your list?  it doesn't have to be limited to 10 btw....those are Honda's rules, not mine...

Meet Harper

One of the sortof intangible things I collect is reclusive writers. They attract me because, well honestly, I am one of them? That's one thing that makes blogging such a challenge for me because I have to crawl a little out of my shell....and it's hard, so very hard ~

Emily Dickenson wrote about this in one of my favorite poems:

I'm nobody! Who are you?
Are you nobody, too?
Then there's a pair of us — don't tell!
They'd banish us, you know.

How dreary to be somebody!
How public, like a frog
To tell your name the livelong day
To an admiring bog!


That's one of the great ironies of writing and enjoying writing is whole idea of exposing yourself in public? If you do it well, you're naked. Of course Emily and I are in some exquisite company with the likes of J.D. Salinger and Harper Lee. Today I'm thinking of Harper Lee because my boyfriend sent me an amazing article about her

And if you ever find yourself in Monroeville Alabama, hearing someone say, "Meet Harper," just don't mention the mockingbird....

through my looking glass

i collect moments,

shouldn’t happen but did

not because of you or me

or anything we said

but because it’s meant to be

that way. . . it’s

Synchronicity

it’s our relationship you see,

this casual causality

this everything is nothing and nothing

can’t be random

ordinary moments

finding spaces in the pattern. . .

remembering forward

not because it feels right

not living on a line

but being in a space instead

that feels so intertwined

wrapped loosely around the paradox

there is no space or time

Coincidentally?


We're doing major reconstruction in our library and my temporary office is actually in a rarely used classroom/ curriculum lab for Tteacher Ed.  As I walked in the other day, a professor was preparing a lecture and asked me, "Quick, name one word that describes you?"  Before I could answer, he said, "Flux, Right?"  And I laughed and said, "I was actually going to say Enigma."

I don't like being labeled or boxed or time-lined but have actually been called an Engima before.

Quick, what's your word?

I am a little sailor girl....or a pirate looks at 44

I have obsessed recently with vintage sailor things? I don't know exactly why though? My dad was in the Navy, and I've always been fascinated with his two tattoo's (as is my 7 year old.) I live on the Gulf Coast and love the water. I'm a Cancer, born July 18th....and oh yeah I'm about to turn 45? Maybe that's it! That old Jimmy Buffett song, about Mother, Mother Ocean has been swimming in my head lately? hmmmmmmmmmmmmm

Here's some of the fun vintage sailor-y things I've recently collected:

Firstly there's this little guy ~ a World War II sailor bank. I have him perched at the beachhouse on my dresser and he's fitting there just fine♥ Suddenly I notice my bedroom there kindof reminds me of what I romantically imagine a bedroom in an old lighthouse to look like? Cool blues, a quilt hanging behind the headboard. Maybe I was a lighthouse keeper's wife in another life?


Then there's the clothes.....ah the clothes, so many nautical clothes. A sailboat skirt here ~ a cute little crop top there that pairs nicely with some Wal-mart red shorts (when's the last time I owned red shorts?) It's madness I say!





I won't even go into the I love SAILING tote that I loved all the more because it was vintage AND from Halifax....a sailing tote from Nova Scotia...how cool is THAT?





Now with all I've plundered maybe this feeling will pass...maybe I'll book a cruise...

and maybe I am just a little sailor girl♥

why we do this...revisited

why do we do this?

we do it because we love it.

this dance of words...
courage hurled upon a page,
persuading ourselves
despite our constant parade of humanity
that calamity of life is wonderful
amid those fragile shells

we tiptoe around ~
the silent sounding thoughts;
the echoes in our collective head…
that secretly dread the day when east meets west
without apology and we are facing
that omniscient horizon.

what will we find then?

when time no longer matters and the
days are scattered out before us
without that thin line that grounded us along?
how will our rhymes sound then
amid the babbling den of everything?

or nothing?

I’m wondering? will the temptation arise
to double back within the loop of space
erasing all the waiting from before and
seize the day’s open door of opportunity
in that stunning gift of frail human possibility
once we finally grow and know….

why we do this?


I wrote this of course about writing, and the collected words I feel compelled to arrange and rearrange all the time. But the image that always comes to mind when I read this poem is vintage typewriters. I have one vintage typewriter, but would love to have another--especially a color.

Grace Light's lovely name reflects her really interesting blog called Poetic Home that combines the idea of living with poetry nicely. She describes her blog as dedicated to poetic interior design, and that's certainly the kind of space I crave. I also love she has a whole category devoted to "typewriter love."

If any of you love and live with vintage typewriters, show me the way.

goddesses all...

I love to see and acknowledge and marvel at the divinity that ((I feel)) is present in each and every one of us. We're all so special and unique, with amazing talents and potential and and and....we truly are essences and energies of God, whatever that idea personally means to you.

One of my favorite divinity stories is about a little Indian girl named Lakshmi Tatma, born with eight limbs. Actually she was one of a pair of ischiopagus conjoined twins where one twin was headless due to its head atrophying and chest underdeveloping in the womb. The result looked like one child with four arms and four legs. Lakshmi was named after the Hindu goddess of wealth, and was actually worshipped as a deity.

After following her amazing surgery, this week I was amazed to see how she's blossomed into a little girl starting school, much like my own little girl who I see blossoming every day. What touched me most of all was her father's comment in this story from the UK's Daily Mail where he says he believes in his heart that Lakshmi is
a goddess. He says, "I think anything is possible for her."

What if we were to all believe the same things not only of our children, but of ourselves?

To help with Lakshmi's future medical care, please click here

why we do this....

I'll be honest with you: I don't know where I'm going with this. I think this space is meant to be a bit like an inspiration board? And, I tend to collect things that inspire me. I collect words and memories and make them into poems. I collect dreams and try to turn them into realizations. I collect vintage fashion and shoes and try to turn them into an expression of unique donna-ness.....but it's all really the same thing isn't?

If you google why we collect things you'll find loads of pages exploring the Freudian psychology of collecting.

But you know why I think we do this?

We do it because we love it.

This little box started one of my collections I'm most fond of...My Enid Collins purse collection. I quite literally stumbled upon it doing an image search in google for "pot of gold" where I found this flickr photostream:

glumpire's enid collins purses set in flickr

And I'm a little fuzzy on the details after that, but I'm pretty sure after squealing with delight I typed ebay.com as fast as my little fingers could....and magically, incredibly there were hundreds of listings for these little purses.

And as you'll see in upcoming posts, I couldn't possibly stop at just one?

Why would I want to?

ephemera

startled by the gathering flight

of all those black birds chatting in the trees

memories stirred of falls gone by

and the breezy dusty rustlings overhead

I looked up and remembered

some things I have collected:

a six year old girl paused in that same spot

noticing all those birds and a little afraid

of their multitude and drop dead cries

seeking comfort in lockets of my hair

and the smell of the red reindeer cap I’m wearing ~

my red-haired niece with miniature hands

inspecting something for a first time

a crumbling leaf’s texture or maybe some small stone

turning it over again and again

in curiosity with a hint of recognition ~

that first curious kiss in the space no more between

but closed now….and yet so wide open

with wanting pouring in first tasting my I love you’s tongue

and the beginning of something hard, but worth it…

the quickening butterfly that was savannah

as I lay in bed one chilly morning

praying it wasn’t yet another dream

memorizing every small delightful thing

in that glorious autumn’s day including ~

swarming grackles laughing at me…