on dressing up

26.2.12

aimless wandering

The day the ground beneath my feet stop fascinating me will be the day when I know I've lost - lost what? you ask. Lost wonder. Lost hope. Lost admiration. Lost all hope of growth. So many people pace up and down these city streets, always lost in their thoughts or the meeting they're running late for. Their shoes pound these pavements relentlessly. All paths start at A and end at B. There's just no wandering aimlessly. So let's turn away. Take my hand. Let them swing gently between us two. Focus on our feet and the ground beneath. As soon as you lose track of time and stop caring that you have, then you'll know. Yes, you'll know. Trust me. Getting lost is easy. Write to me. Tell me where your feet have taken you.

19.2.12

snow angels at fontainebleau

I took a train from Paris and stood shivering at the bus stop to get to the chateaux. The two women at the ticket counter looked surprised to see me. There was no one around. For hours I wandered the floors and snowy grounds. I saw, maybe, a total of five other people. Marie Antoinette's boudoir was swathed in milky light, protected by white chiffon drapes against the windows, the most brittle parts cut off from the public by swathes of glass. Napoleon's bed was suitably diminutive but his gold standard was brash and loud; a big gold N topped by an eagle. I peered through wire mesh at the porcelain used by centuries of French royalty. They're long gone but all their things are still here; shining gold, gleaming mother of pearl, thick velvet, and silence. Oh, I remember the silence most of all. Out on the grounds, there were three things - snow, snow, more snow. All that blankness was like a balm from the frothiness and grandeur. For a second, I understood minimalism and all its worth. Alone, I can still hear the swishing of my limbs moving, back and forth, back and forth, making one lone snow angel on the ground.

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11.2.12

meeting of minds

When I first heard Christine talk about Mark, she used the words "soulmate". She talked of a man who wrote poetry, left quotes about the universe and astronomy on her work desk, and with whom she was able to talk to for hours at a time. A term lawyers use about contracts came into my head. It's called a "meeting of minds". If two people don't completely understand each other, the contract they made may be faulty to the point where it is almost like it was never made. In other words, there was no "meeting of minds". Often, when people call each other "soulmates" I suspect that what it is is really just a simple meeting of minds - the feeling that someone understands you, the knowledge that they will listen, argue to test your theory, and then support you, the comfort when you find you are wrong and someone is there to love you anyway.

I've known the bride for over twenty years. She's one of my best and oldest friends; the kind who can go overseas for years, then turn up the next day on your doorstep and it'll be like she'd never left. That's the hallmark of a good friendship, I think; the world can turn, but you guys won't. I wish her and Mark all the love and joy there is to wish in the world.

All photos by Rob. Email viewmorephotos@gmail.com if you want some photos taken for your engagement or wedding. To see other weddings and engagement shoots we've taken, visit here and here.