write around the wilderness: butterflies

Showing posts with label butterflies. Show all posts

Tuesday, 19 May 2009

(Atlas Moth. Photo copyright R. Allen 09)

There is something sad about this.

Maybe the dirty, ripped gauze. The small companionable butterfly. The resigned wings of the moth.

I don't know.

But I like this photo.

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Someone said I only talk about things I don't like. So here's more that I do...

listening to stories of WWII, people getting all serious about minutes, apologies and agenda items, little triangle sandwiches with the crusts cut off, getting to know new people and hearing something new, scientific terminology, biscuit to chocolate ratios, people who dress to match their building, sharks breach feeding, little boxes, the type of people who still send cards, post-its that stay stuck, giant calculators, cars like re-entry capsules, motionless engineering (fans not in use, desk lamps poised at an angle but not switched on), Alpaca, orderly pin-boards, being too young to remember stuff, the geological time scale, mugs with little pictures hidden inside, 03:17 still time to sleep, paintings by John William Waterhouse and the static smell of newly opened magazines.

Things I like

Working, photos (of piglets in particular), The Richter Scale, laminators, sugar, rows of red cars, banana days, Haribo Tangfastics, chocolate limes and Rhubarb Custards, Raymond Carver, writing melancholia, black Bic mediums, things from Paperchase, Wolves, wilderness, Sicilian trains, rocks that look like witches, driftwood, forearms, lists, creative business cards, irregular shaped postcards, right angles in clouds, smell of new books, national geographic front covers, candid photos, the patterned panel on the back of a payslip, working unbroken for an hour, adding things to CV, fast bikes, the BBC pips, flowers in macro, toucans and other top-heavy birds (!), peanut butter and marmite (sometimes together), pink wine, the letter B, the number 12, Mars Midnight, stars viewed in Norfolk, Bangladesh, Esmerelda in all her guises, gadgetry, wizardry, rabbits, SilvaC rabbits, discovering a link - cause and effect, low-lying cloud, memory foam, Lindemanns Bin 67 (2007), old John Paul Gaultier bottles, You Have 1 New Message, collecting things, rescuing sick animals from the street, sweet potato with Boursin, did I mention rabbits?

Till We Have Faces: A Myth Retold by C.S. Lewis

My review

rating: 5 of 5 stars
This is my favourite book of all time. I even have a tasty first edition, which is my pride and joy. It is a modern retelling of the story of Cupid and Psyche, but told from the perspective of Psyche's ugly sister, who also rules the kingdom they live in. The last time I read it was a long time ago and now as I write I can't tell you the ins and outs, I just know that the story is eternal and poignant and wonderfully atmospheric. You get transported to a strange world that is somewhere between reality and Tolkien's Middle Earth. Maybe I liked this because I could so strongly identify with the main character. When i first read this in my teens she represented everything I felt I was and everything I wanted to be. I wanted to be a strong, powerful woman but always felt like the ugly person in the room. This character transformed the way I viewed my own place in the world, through a beautifully stark narrative. C. S. Lewis is far more than religion and old Wardrobes. Read this if you want something timeless and beautiful without all the hype and sometimes dissapointment of the better known classics.

View all my reviews.