Goddess in my pocket

She is Tara, at the left of the picture.

She is in brass, and I took the photo against the stairway up to the roof deck at our apartment. The mask to her right, maybe 6 inches tall, is one of the odd and wonderful pieces our landlord, Steve, has floating around the place where I've lived for the last year.

The Tara figure is not quite an inch and a half tall. She lives in my pocket every day, her sharper edges playing against my skin to remind me she's there. My thumb polishes her as best it can.

She is all about connections. My sweet friend Lou sent her to me. Lou got the figure from her daughter Gail. Gail had gotten it from a lama on a pilgrimage in Tibet. Gail has since taken her vows as a nun, and every time I touch Tara, silent now as Gail, I touch into her web of peace, strength and compassion. Four degrees of nirvana.