'She left the web, she left the loom,
She made three paces through the room,
She saw the helmet and the plume,
She look'd down to Camelot.
Out flew the web and floated wide;
The mirror crack'd from side to side;
"The curse is come upon me," cried
The Lady of Shalott.'
She made three paces through the room,
She saw the helmet and the plume,
She look'd down to Camelot.
Out flew the web and floated wide;
The mirror crack'd from side to side;
"The curse is come upon me," cried
The Lady of Shalott.'
John William Waterhouse - Alfred Lord Tennyson
***
Tales from The Treehouse
All the doors are locked, which leaves me only with the window, a window which is shrinking. If I take all my pictures down, no longer a name, no longer in want or in memory - the doors' locks may become undone but what is left on the other side would become less desirable than before when clouded by ignorance. Because now it's accessible? surely that would make me dense? ... if then i did walk out the door, or climb from my window, with nothing out there to face anymore, no desire or fear just the non-picture of what I had not become but had reverted back to, of a world that is the same, what would happen then and where would 'I' go? would it even matter; you tell me that anywhere is everywhere, vice versa and each and all are in our minds. Nothing becomes important ironically as importance isn't found anywhere anymore. When we unravel all misconceptions, conceptions and everything in between we are left with nothing, left to exist either as part of or inside/outside the room with no-one else because you've worked out that you are both and all the same, the same as the room even; you and all have become everything and nothing in one, like what you always were; Abraxas? As this all grows inside and around I have no idea how I feel, because feelings have all been subdued by thoughts that question right back to the root and on answering make the original feeling vanish altogether and subsequent questions pointless, is this even possible? I told you magic is shy, but right now it's deafeningly loud... pass me a sedative.
4 comments:
I really love this poem.
Equally beautiful is Loreena McKennitt's version of this in music in her album The Visit. Made me love "The Lady of Shalott" even more.
I saw the paintings first, long ago, love Waterhouse. I will have to find The Visit and give it a listen as now I'm happily intrigued ... have a beautiful day x
I hope you don't mind my lovely but i'm a new blogger and i just featured one of your dresses in my newest post.. i hope this is ok.
xx
Thank you for featuring my moth dress on your blog Emmi! <3 looking forward to your next posts ... xxx
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