Saturday, May 05, 2012

Guest Blog by Kathy Marsden
Heady Scents Permeated my Raiments





Lilacs were blooming the day I was photographed by Alex Waterhouse-Hayward. Lilacs, their fragrance filled the air and expanded my soul, as I entered the gate to his garden. Alex had been watching me from the window and met me at the top of the steps. "You must come to the garden", he said, "I cannot photograph you in my stark dark hallway. Your spirit seeks freedom among the sun-drenched flowers, and yearns to join the chorus of exulting robins and the pair of orange-crowned warblers nesting in the magnolia."

He led me to an arbour where the white jasmine, with roses entwined together, climbed against an azure sky. "How perfectly this setting reflects your vibrant essence and liberates you from the confines of your life, present and past," he uttered with delight as he unfurled a cloud of silk and let it settle on my shoulders. An armful of ruffled, scented peonies were placed in my up stretched hands. As the camera lens opened and closed I was lulled into a trance; enchanting strains of voiles filled my ears, heady scents permeated my raiments, and a zephyr caressed my face and smoothed my brow. I was vaguely aware of Alex's voice prompting me to adjust my pose ever so slightly, this way and that, and his periodic rearranging the tendrils of my hair.

So at ease was I that I felt life's burdens lighten and dissipate, liberating me from melancholy and mediocrity. Almost weightless now I sensed a distant memory tugging at me, claiming my attention. Or perhaps it was Alex fixing my straying hair again. Regardless, a sudden shadow blotted my view of approaching paradise. How could I comprehend this unnamed spectre, for I was now far beyond the realm of words and rational thought?

The shutter clicked again, and there I was: five years old, sitting in the drawing room with Granny and the Great Aunts Lillian, Sarah and Kate from Victoria. They were talking grown-up talk, so I couldn't really understand, but periodically I caught phrases like "dined with thah Govahnah General lahst week" and "when Myfanwy was presented to thah Queen ..." And finally "simply must take ah picture of her, Daphne would be most amused to see her little country cousin!"

Another click, Alex's last. The memory of my stifling Victorian upbringing fled before the shutter closed.