mac photobooth. self portrait after being dressed by the women of shampura village. jaipur, india. september 09.

i was told the other night that i was a queen in a past life. now, think what you want
about this statement. it is no matter to me. because the value for me is in
the message received. there is no certain way to fact check our
past life cv, but what we do with these bits of information offered to us by someone
who believes them to be true is another thing altogether.

i started thinking about what it is to be a queen. to be revered. to rule a kingdom. to be treated royally. to be fed beautiful feasts, bathe in rose petals, and only wear finery. to have rituals and rhythms built into the day. to enjoy art, music, culture, and have insightful  conversations with other leaders. to have known purpose and to wear a crown. (let's go with the old world, romantic version of queen, shall we?)

naturally, it followed that if i was once a queen, then of course it makes sense that i crave and am called to a Big Life. to Want More. to Dream Big. but what also follows is that i need to start paying attention to the queen that resides somewhere inside of me. who is demanding some royal attention.

i have realized that my inner queen has been a bit ignored and needs some reviving. it has been quite some time since i have felt the kind of beautiful that suits my queen. my queen currently lacks luster and is in dire need of some new threads. she needs to take to her royal chamber to rejuvinate and to be fed wholesome food. she needs to tend to her kingdom and to mingle with other regal women. she needs more yoga, some weight training, and perhaps a facial.

in short, my queen needs a makeover.

i invite you to serve your queen, too. polish up that crown and go looking for the embroidered cape.

we can take turns being handmaidens to one another.