Thursday, March 09, 2006

Iron Lace & Magnolia

Iron Lace & Magnolia
Originally uploaded by Other Andrew.

To me this looks like something from a gentler age. Can you smell the bayou? Hear the cicadas? Feel the lace of your gloves as you lift your skirts?

In reality it's the magnolia growing in one of my neighbour's front garden, in sunny downtown Newtown. Not a crinoline in sight. Alas.


Michael said...

Andrew, that is GORGEOUS.

If you were to email me that photo in its full glory, say for my birthday, then my gratitude will know no bounds.

The Other Andrew said...

Gee, that's all it would take to satiate you? Wow. Consider it done.

(Although I'll have to email it from home because Big Brother is reading my work emails these days. I am not kidding. One of the things my fight with my boss was about, the amount of email I've been writing.)

worldpeace and a speedboat said...

Feel the lace of your gloves as you lift your skirts?

thought of writing a historical romance, TOA? ;)

Michael Guy said...

Jesus! This photo gives me an edgy Goth feel. It almost looks like fine porcelain, yet there's a dark side to it's beauty.

The Other Andrew said...

It's my tribute to Anne Rice and the vampires of New Orleans perhaps?

Bodhi said...

1791 was the year it happened. I was 24, younger than you are now, but times were different then. I was a man at that age: the master of a large plantation just south of New Orleans. I had lost my wife in childbirth. She and the infant had been buried less than half a year; I would have been happy to join them. I couldn't bear the pain of their loss: I longed to be released from it.

That morning I was not yet a vampire, and I saw my last sunrise. I remember it completely, and yet I can't recall any sunrise before it. I watched its whole magnificence for the last time as if it were the first. And then I said farewell to sun light, and set out to become what I became.

Merciful death. How you love your precious guilt.

You are beautiful my friend. Lestat must have wept when he made you.


Ahhh, my sweet, sweet Louis!