“And then, open…

by kangcuzzi

“And then, opening her eyes, how fresh like frilled linen clean from a laundry laid in wicker trays the roses looked; and dark and prim the red carnations, holding their heads up; and all the sweet peas spreading in their bowls, tinged violet, snow white, pale – as if it were the evening after the superb summer’s day, with its almost blue-black sky, its delphiniums, its carnations, its arum lilies was over; and it was the moment between six and seven when every flower – roses, carnations, irises, lilac – glows; white, violet, red, deep orange; every flower seems to burn by itself, softly, purely in the misty beds; and how she loved the grey-white moths spinning in and out, over the cherry pie, over the evening primroses!”

I’m currently reading Mrs. Dalloway by Virginia Woolf; this is the first time I’m reading her work and I’m so excited. As a feminist myself, I think I’ll find Woolf’s writing extremely engaging, and although I have yet to come across any particularly feminist statements within the novel I am already in love with the quirkiness of her writing style. The poetry! The consciousness! The vitality! I’ve had a really rough this week (in a moment of pure poetic whimsicality I guess I could say the summer months are now ‘sleeping amidst their withered petals’) and I need the world of vividness, of flowers I’ve never really known, to save me…

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