Dance Me To The End Of Love

Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin

Dance me through the panic 'til I'm gathered safely in

Lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove

Dance me to the end of love Dance me to the end of love

Oh let me see your beauty when the witnesses are gone

Let me feel you moving like they do in Babylon

Show me slowly what I only know the limits of

Dance me to the end of love Dance me to the end of love

Dance me to the wedding now, dance me on and on

Dance me very tenderly and dance me very long

We're both of us beneath our love, we're both of us above

Dance me to the end of love

Dance me to the end of love

Dance me to the children who are asking to be born

Dance me through the curtains that our kisses have outworn

Raise a tent of shelter now, though every thread is torn

Dance me to the end of love

Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin

Dance me through the panic till I'm gathered safely in

Touch me with your naked hand or touch me with your glove

Dance me to the end of love

Dance me to the end of love

Dance me to the end of love 

-LEONARD COHEN-

~Dance Me To The End Of Love. Jack Vettriano~

You Are Tired

You are tired

(I think)

Of the always puzzle of living and doing;

And so am I.

Come with me then And we'll leave it far and far away-

(Only you and I understand!)

You have played

(I think)

And broke the toys you were fondest of

And are a little tired now;

Tired of things that break and-

Just tired.

So am I.

But I come with a dream in my eyes tonight

And knock with a rose at the hopeless gate of your heart-

Open to me!

For I will show you the places

Nobody knows

And if you like

The perfect places of Sleep.

Ah come with me!

I'll blow you that wonderful bubble the moon

That floats forever and a day;

I'll sing you the jacinth song

Of the probable stars;

I will attempt the unstartled steppes of dream

Until I find the Only Flower

Which shall keep

(I think) your little heart

While the moon comes out of the sea.

~ E. E. Cummings~

Smooth Sailing

My second themed Christmas gathering! I decided to go Nautical as I thought it would be an easy enough theme for people to rustle up an outfit at such short notice (smile).  I think I did rather well with the little amount of time I gave myself this year (blush).  I took a few pics, my camera was in for a service and so I used a camera I am not familiar with...the results, a few fuzzy pictures...but they capture the essence of it!

The cute boat and waves were created by Alcock & Wrinch-Schulz Carpentry & Design, they are a pleasure to work with and had it done, and delivered in a tight time frame! Check them out on Facebook: http://goo.gl/LHtG1

A Very Happy Birthday!

Just when I think that Birthday celebrations are becoming a memory of younger more carefree days I am surprised with two surprise 'parties', a family dinner (which is an annual event) and a dinner with some dear friends....what more could I have asked for :)

A Surprise 'party' just for me at Durban's very special Factory Cafe.  Everyone put together a small table of finger snacks; mini wraps, candy floss, macaroons and other treats.

And later that afternoon/evening I went for a sushi Birthday dinner with some dear friends at Marula...after some much missed sushi, a glass or two of Angels Tears and the opening of my present from D (The SG Book I have been eyeing out every visit to exclusive books we have had) we decided to test out the play ground!

And later in the week a family dinner which was absolutely mouth watering!!! A cheese cake for DESSERT!

A trip down the South Coast to Margate was to be a quaint weekend away with Deane and D... and yet another surprise...a huge red velvet cake decorated in rose petals and glitter.  I must say that I turned a medium shade of red when this was presented to me in front of others lunching, but what a delightful day!

The restaurant in the last set of images is Burlesque Cafe in Ramsgate - http://www.theburlesquecafe.com

Jessica Stam

Vogue Italia, September 2003 issue

Stylist: Brana Wolf
Model: Jessice Stam
Photographer: Steven Meisel

The Ground

Sweet Rosemary...

I suppose you are all wondering why I have posted a tragic poem and a tragic excerpt of such graceful women in literature.  Well that is just it, they are graceful, whimsical and both loved men that could not love them back.  The imagery is sad, beautiful and still gives them the ending they deserve...writing them into angelic forms and knowing only in death how they had love all along.

 

I have always been drawn towards tragic romance in literature and the romantic art of the Pre-Raphaelite movement.  I have a great interest in the one of the Artists in particular, John William Waterhouse, as his paintings depict the women of these poems, and other myths and legends, to how I imagine them to look.  From their faces, to their build, the way their clothes fall, the colours and textures of their hair, the smoothness of their often pale skin and their mannerisms.

Another one of my favourites by John William Waterhouse can be coupled with Keats's poem La Belle Dame sans Merci (1883).

Excerpt from La Belle Dame sans Merci (1883)
From a poem by Keats:
...
I met a lady in the meads,
Full beautiful-a faery's child,
Her hair was long, her foot was light,
And her eyes were wild.

I made a garland for her head,
And bracelets too, and fragant zone,
She look'd at me as she did love,
And made sweet moan.

I set her on my pacing steed,
And nothing else saw all day long,
For sidelong would she bed, and sing
A faery's song.

She found me foots or relish sweet,
And honey wild, and manna dew,
And sure in language strange she said-
"I love thee true!"
...

La Belle Dame Sans Merci

John William Waterhouse (1849-1917)

 

Ophelia.

There is a willow grows aslant a brook,

That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream;

There with fantastic garlands did she come

Of crow-flowers, nettles, daisies, and long purples

That liberal shepherds give a grosser name,

But our cold maids do dead men's fingers call them:

There, on the pendent boughs her coronet weeds

Clambering to hang, an envious sliver broke;

When down her weedy trophies and herself

Fell in the weeping brook. Her clothes spread wide;

And, mermaid-like, awhile they bore her up:

Which time she chanted snatches of old tunes;

As one incapable of her own distress,

Or like a creature native and indued

Unto that element: but long it could not be

Till that her garments, heavy with their drink,

Pull'd the poor wretch from her melodious lay

To muddy death.

Act IV, scene vii

Queen Gertrude's speech about Ophelia's death:

~William Shakespeare~

John William Waterhouse

Ophelia 1910