It was too hot for me, long acclimated to the long grey winters of the Pacific Northwest. Although it was only April, Rome felt more like a midsummer day beating down on me with an intensity made worse by the pounding of fierce jet lag. I wanted nothing more than to find a cafe and have a long leisurely meal accompanied by several large bottles of water. But I was on a quest, a personal journey to see the storied home of one of the most revered yet unknown Goddesses of the Ancient Pagan world: Hestia.
I am the core
the center
indescribable, elusive
constant.
I am the living presence
inhabiting
every building
each dwelling.
I am the transformation
of marble, stone, wood
and with its hearth fire lit
I make it a home.