#01 a fresh-faced Eve
The starter for this instruction is the weekly poem for the Guardian:
www.theguardian.com/books/2017/feb/25/saturday-poem-one-n...
The intriguing thing is that when I got round to looking at the Review from the 25 February to read the weekly poem a week later there was a complete coincidence with the instruction:
"Like a cruel lover or spiteful mistress
No-Sleep demands my restless attentiveness.
No-Sleep prefers me stripped –
a dark projectionist
winding and unwinding the reel of my thoughts.
An old grained movie I can’t switch off –
a starring of loves and loss, TV footage,
soft tears, mortifications, smothered laughs.
Then, one night comes like a blessing.
A visitation of wings that sees me falling.
Whoever wants me now, I am swimming
towards my House of Dreams.
Let no one disturb this peace.
Let no one shake me
even from the branches of nightmares.
Come morning I am reborn again –
a fresh-faced Eve – emerging from the rib’s shadow –
ready to meet the daily pandemonium of living."
I don't think my sub-conscious was responsible - just the relevant editor doing their thing. But I liked the poem and used it to look out for a matching opportunity the following Friday when I next got out. Normally market is fairly mundane as those who see my photos know, but on this particular Friday this woman, who was with a couple of her girl-friends (school mums), suddenly struck this pose and it seemed to fit the final verse of the poem.
#01 a fresh-faced Eve
The starter for this instruction is the weekly poem for the Guardian:
www.theguardian.com/books/2017/feb/25/saturday-poem-one-n...
The intriguing thing is that when I got round to looking at the Review from the 25 February to read the weekly poem a week later there was a complete coincidence with the instruction:
"Like a cruel lover or spiteful mistress
No-Sleep demands my restless attentiveness.
No-Sleep prefers me stripped –
a dark projectionist
winding and unwinding the reel of my thoughts.
An old grained movie I can’t switch off –
a starring of loves and loss, TV footage,
soft tears, mortifications, smothered laughs.
Then, one night comes like a blessing.
A visitation of wings that sees me falling.
Whoever wants me now, I am swimming
towards my House of Dreams.
Let no one disturb this peace.
Let no one shake me
even from the branches of nightmares.
Come morning I am reborn again –
a fresh-faced Eve – emerging from the rib’s shadow –
ready to meet the daily pandemonium of living."
I don't think my sub-conscious was responsible - just the relevant editor doing their thing. But I liked the poem and used it to look out for a matching opportunity the following Friday when I next got out. Normally market is fairly mundane as those who see my photos know, but on this particular Friday this woman, who was with a couple of her girl-friends (school mums), suddenly struck this pose and it seemed to fit the final verse of the poem.