I Drank Your Beams

"Ah! why, because the dazzling sun
Restored my earth to joy
Have you departed, every one,
And left a desert sky?
I was at peace, and drank your beams
As they were life to me
And revelled in my changeful dreams
Like petrel on the sea.
My lids closed down—yet through their veil
I saw him blazing still;
And bathe in gold the misty dale,
And flash upon the hill."
-Emily Bronte

Codie Young for Self Service Magazine

Breathless

I stumbled across this series of photographs by Martyna Galla recently and fell in love immediately. It's inspired by the film Breathless (A Bout de Souffle) and is incredibly evocative of several memorable moments from the film. Even those that haven't seen the film must appreciate the wonderful composition of each shot and sublime body language between the two models.

La Petite Americaine photographed by Martyna Galla

I Was Tired, But Not At Heart

"These massive roots afford a seat,
Which seems for weary travellers made.
There rest. The air is soft and sweet
In this sequestered forest glade,
And there are scents of flowers around,
The evening dew draws from the ground;
How soothingly they spread!
Yes; I was tired, but not at heart;
No--that beats full of sweet content,
For now I have my natural part
Of action with adventure blent;
Cast forth on the wide world with thee,
And all my once waste energy
To weighty purpose bent.
Refreshed, erelong, with rustic fare,
We'll seek a couch of dreamless ease;
Courage will guard thy heart from fear,
And Love give mine divinest peace:
To-morrow brings more dangerous toil,
And through its conflict and turmoil
We'll pass, as God shall please."
-Charlotte Bronte

Wildflower by Tim Barber for Muse

A Night Of Streets And Singing

"Come out . . . . out
To this inevitable night of mine
Oh you drinker of new wine,
Here's pageantry . . . .

Here's carnival,
Rich dusk, dim streets and all
The whispering of city night . . . .
I shall know you by your eager feet
And by your pale, pale hair;
I'll whisper happy incoherent things
While I'm waiting for you there . . . .
All the faces unforgettable in dusk
Will blend to yours,
And the footsteps like a thousand overtures
Will blend to yours,
And there will be more drunkenness than wine
In the softness of your eyes on mine . . . .
Faint violins where lovely ladies dine,
The brushing of skirts, the voices of the night
And all the lure of friendly eyes . . . . Ah there
We'll drift like summer sounds upon the summer air . . . ."
-F Scott Fitzgerald

An Echanting Look by Ellen von Unworth, for Vogue Italia December 2000