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…