Of Swirling Skirts, Bells, and Kohl

There's a hidden piece of the human soul that yearns for mystery, for the delicious sensation of running through a dark forest barefoot...

A part of us that was always meant for transmutability.

For the complete freedom of dusty, unpaved roads and horizons you can never touch.

For symbols with indecipherable meanings, and treasures passed down from mother to daughter for more generations than you have fingers.

For companionship, laughter, and singing just for the joy of it.

For trinkets and baubles that jangle as you walk.

For time spent with the earth as your closest confidant.

For old, glinting bits of metal, to which you are inexplicably attracted like a magpie.

For release from restraining social conventions and the freedom to do as you please.

For brightly colored bowers, tassels that stir in the breeze, and dapples of tree-shade.

For flying tresses and skirts that ripple like wind as you dance.

For haunting images seen in dreams.

For the courage to chase those dreams with relentless abandon.

For lilting melodies coaxed from gut strings, for spinning in the firelight.

For living comfortably in your own skin.

For the spicy smoke of incense and and sultry candlelight.

For pure revelry.

For kohl-coated lashes.

For childlike wonder.

For wanderlust, for dark, curly hair, for slanted eyes, for dusky skin. For timeless intrigue, for mismatched patterns, for voices blended seamlessly with the purr of a painted guitar. For the magic of gypsies.

All photos courtesy of the Internet. So much pretty! I was looking all this up, by the way, because I needed inspiration for a character that you will definitely be hearing lots about. She is a serious badass. Also, gypsies are just cool.

But first, Renaissance paper. Awesome.

Commander Kip
"It's rubbish, but AMUSING rubbish."
Normal is overrated!