Tonight I had dinner with
And speaking of treasures, swampwitch brought me a gift–an egg that she purchased because it’s a "Valya Egg."
It was actually labeled as a Valya Egg! And it’s purple and sparkly, and it opens like a Fabergé egg. The egg has already been claimed by this mini steampunk poppet (one of Lisa Snelling‘s creations) seen gazing longingly above.
Because I have an uncommon name, I was never able to find any of those personalized gifts that kids sometimes had in the 80s: bracelets, bookmarks, or mugs. There may have been a Valerie or a Val, but I was neither of those. A friend once made me a wooden sign of my name, I have it to this day because it was the only thing with my name.
And now this egg.
Plus swampwitch knows me well enough to know that I am fascinated with eggs as symbols, a part of folklore and tradition, and as a storytelling tool. Eggs by their very nature hide something precious inside. They connect generations. They hold their stories hidden inside the shells. They are a perfect symbol of potential.
(Painted eggs, called pysanky, are an important (and one of my favorite) part of Ukrainian culture. To read more about them from a previous LJ post, click here.)
I wanted to write more about friendship and hidden treasures, but I’m falling asleep on the keyboard.