“The being who, for most men, is the source of the most lively, and even, be it said, to the shame of philosophical delights, the most lasting joys; the being towards or for whom all their efforts tend for whom and by whom fortunes are made and lost; for whom, but especially by whom, artists and poets compose their most delicate jewels; from whom flow the most enervating pleasures and the most enriching sufferings / woman, in a word, is not, for the artist in general… only the female of the human species. She is rather a divinity, a star.”-Baudelaire

She is rather a divinity, a star, a purposeful being on this planet.  This little star burning strong in the sky, for others to see from distant places.  Leaving me feeling like there are other me’s in other times, thinking the same thing, feeling the same emotions.

We converge together on this earth, converge slowly.
With purpose.
With thoughts of wonder.
Delightful times to be alive, to feel the rain on our shoulders.
There is no mistrust here.
Illumination, this is how my heart behaves.