A Charm Invests Her Face
Wednesday, January 25, 2017
A CHARM invests a face
Imperfectly beheld,—
The lady dare not lift her veil
For fear it be dispelled.
Emily Dickinson
But peers beyond her mesh,
And wishes, and denies,—
Lest interview annul a want
That image satisfies.
One of the mysteries of my photographic life is such because from the very beginning that I put film in a camera all I wanted to do with it was to take portraits.
I marvel that two eyes, one nose, one mouth, a couple of
ears, a forehead, two eyebrows, and a chin can create an infinity of faces. It may depend on the shape of the face, the
head, the length of hair, the length of the neck but ultimately it seems that
there are finite limits that clash with a variety that indeed is infinite.
As an example here is Madeleine Morris. I first saw her
singing on a stage in Vancouver at least 25 years ago. The first feature on her
face that I noticed was a luxurious mouth in bright red lipstick. Because I am
a photographer and not a lawyer or plumber I was finally able to persuade her
to pose for me. This she did many times. Every time I was charmed by the face
of a chameleon. She was short but made up for it with a passion for laughing
(and smoking).
I could fill this blog with numerous examples of the above
but I have chosen just a few.
The first image is one of those accidents after the fact. In
my photographic darkroom (alas it flooded and was no more a year ago and then
we moved to a duplex without one) the procedure before committing expensive
photographic paper to the developing tray was the practice of the test strip. I
would place a small portion of photographic paper (I had a box with the label
Test Strips). Once I had a satisfactory one I took out the sheets of paper.
This test trip somehow survived being thrown into my waste basket (it was lined
with a garbage bag as test strips, and bad prints were wet with fixer).
Morris posed with her pet rat (she said it was exactly
like the ones that brought the plague to Europe) and happened to mention that
they did not have to be “taken for walkies.”
More Emily Dickinson
A sepal, a petal and a thorn
The Savior must have been a docile Gentleman
T were blessed to have seen
More Emily Dickinson
A sepal, a petal and a thorn
The Savior must have been a docile Gentleman
T were blessed to have seen
I pay in satin cash
Emily Dickinson's White Dress & a Hunter of Lost Souls
Emily Dickinson's White Dress & a Hunter of Lost Souls
El vestido blanco - The White Dress
Water makes many beds
The viola da gamba
But sequence ravelled out of reach
A parasol is the umbrella's daughter
Without the power to die
Lessons on the piny
Ample make this bed
How happy is the little stone
Water makes many beds
The viola da gamba
But sequence ravelled out of reach
A parasol is the umbrella's daughter
Without the power to die
Lessons on the piny
Ample make this bed
How happy is the little stone
Sleep is supposed to be
The shutting of the eye
I dwell in possibility
when Sappho was a living girl
In a library
A light exists in spring
The lady dare not lift her veil
I took my power in my hand
I find my feet have further goals
I cannot dance upon my toes
The Music of the Violin does not emerge alone
Red Blaze
He touched me, so I live to know
Rear Window- The Entering Takes Away
Said Death to Passion
We Wear the Mask That Grins And Lies
It was not death for I stood alone
The Music in the Violin Does Not Emerge Alone
I tend my flowers for thee
Lavinia Norcross Dickinson
Pray gather me anemone!
Ample make her bed
His caravan of red
Me-come! My dazzled face
Develops pearl and weed
But peers beyond her mesh
Surgeons must be very careful
Water is taught by thirst
I could not prove that years had feet
April played her fiddle
A violin in Baize replaced
I think the longest hour
The spirit lasts
http://blog.alexwaterhousehayward.com/2014/03/i-left-them-in-ground-emily-dickinson.html
http://blog.alexwaterhousehayward.com/2014/01/i-felt-my-life-with-both-my-hands.html
http://blog.alexwaterhousehayward.com/2011/03/currer-bell-emily-dickinson-charlotte.html
http://blog.alexwaterhousehayward.com/2011/03/and-zero-at-bone-with-dirks-of-melody.html
http://blog.alexwaterhousehayward.com/2011/05/charm-invests-her-face.html
http://blog.alexwaterhousehayward.com/2011/06/i-could-not-see-to-see.html
http://blog.alexwaterhousehayward.com/2011/06/blonde-assasin-passes-on.html
http://blog.alexwaterhousehayward.com/2012/12/you-almost-bathed-your-tongue.html
The shutting of the eye
I dwell in possibility
when Sappho was a living girl
In a library
A light exists in spring
The lady dare not lift her veil
I took my power in my hand
I find my feet have further goals
I cannot dance upon my toes
The Music of the Violin does not emerge alone
Red Blaze
He touched me, so I live to know
Rear Window- The Entering Takes Away
Said Death to Passion
We Wear the Mask That Grins And Lies
It was not death for I stood alone
The Music in the Violin Does Not Emerge Alone
I tend my flowers for thee
Lavinia Norcross Dickinson
Pray gather me anemone!
Ample make her bed
His caravan of red
Me-come! My dazzled face
Develops pearl and weed
But peers beyond her mesh
Surgeons must be very careful
Water is taught by thirst
I could not prove that years had feet
April played her fiddle
A violin in Baize replaced
I think the longest hour
The spirit lasts
http://blog.alexwaterhousehayward.com/2014/03/i-left-them-in-ground-emily-dickinson.html
http://blog.alexwaterhousehayward.com/2014/01/i-felt-my-life-with-both-my-hands.html
http://blog.alexwaterhousehayward.com/2011/03/currer-bell-emily-dickinson-charlotte.html
http://blog.alexwaterhousehayward.com/2011/03/and-zero-at-bone-with-dirks-of-melody.html
http://blog.alexwaterhousehayward.com/2011/05/charm-invests-her-face.html
http://blog.alexwaterhousehayward.com/2011/06/i-could-not-see-to-see.html
http://blog.alexwaterhousehayward.com/2011/06/blonde-assasin-passes-on.html
http://blog.alexwaterhousehayward.com/2012/12/you-almost-bathed-your-tongue.html