Persephone has lead me a merry Spring dance this week. Showering me with flora at every turn, confetti like abundance...she conducts the Circus of blossom with great deftness, it's heady and it's seductive, slowly you realise you're a little drunk on nectar.
Rosy dawn arrives with her misty veil and cherry blossom bunting...
~~~
The girl on the train had feathery long lashes and the tiniest nose. Blonde wisps gathered in tiny clips...she reminded me of a flower fairy...
~~~
In Carnaby Street, spring bulbs!
...and around the corner, outside Liberty, velvety fragrant abundance, symphonic colour...
Walking on towards Shepherds Market, Act 1, Scene 2 of us*
Blown sideways like a spore, I hadn't anticipated the nostalgia. It's a thrill to be here, there's "our" Trattoria.
I open the gallery door and there is an abundance of paint ordered by
Virginia's brush strokes.
Blowsy bouquets in oil and acrylic dance across the walls whilst patterned chickens cavort amongst them.
~~~
At home, a desire to catalogue, capture all.
I snip buds and bracts. Petals spin in the breeze I try to catch them, elusive as snowflakes.
I will press these and later, when I find them again, all tissue paper thin, delicate corpses I will have this spring moment again.
I begin to imagine each flower is a costume in a Spring Circus.
I hastily draw a tent. Laughing, I answer the phone.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm making a flower Circus!"
"Of course you are!"
We laugh.
That night I fall into a heavy hay feverish sleep and I dream of the Circus...
~~~
* After we met in Act 1, Scene 1, Jolly Harbour. Mr.Lane and I would meet up every Friday in Shepherd's Market.
I longed for Fridays all week.
~~~
--x--
