These days are bright and warm, the mornings begin with the promise of happiness, and the afternoons settle in with breezy bliss. the doors remain open, the curtains aren't drawn until close to bedtime. I have swept the patio and made sure there are places for me to sit, to lay, to sleep in the sun. I have just finished a book of epic proportions, one so brilliant that lying in bed last night it was the book's story that played over and over in my head - a nice respite from my own. 

In every great story (I think), we are reminded that at the heart of it all is our search for love. I speak not of the characters in the book, but rather of myself, of women, of humans. In stories, I find fulfillment in the acknowledgement of love, and especially of its related magic.

There are so many things that take our breath away: the glittering gold of wealth, the shiny promise of beauty, the sugary sweetness of what-could-be. but ultimately it is love and its certain connection to the vast expanse of stars (the unknown) that is the most stunning. it is this that inspires so many tales, so many songs; so many journeys begin and end with this particular piece. it seems we come into this world, dropped from the starry mess all at once, and slowly (as life goes on and if we pay attention) we can gather up the pieces of stardust that belong in our blood.


Thank you for commenting! Even if I don't reply, I read and appreciate every single one of you. xo