Illuminatus

Follow the light.

The view from Trocadéro.
Paris, France. Joyeux Noël - DK

Gratitude

A Thursday in November, above the Pacific.

Somewhere along the Pacific Ocean. Season's Greetings - DK

Nouveau

The day anew.

A stroll through the Champs de Mars.

Paris, France. When you love - DK

Implode (à Paris)

We never talk about Paris.
The Champs de Mars.
The café off Rue de Monttessuy.
Or the twilight strolls, along the river Seine.

We never talk about the boulevards.
Rue de la Paix
Place Vendôme.
Or the majestic grandeur of the Champs-Élysées.

We never talk about Versailles.
The Louvre.
Or Saturday mornings, spent at Musée d'Orsay.

We never discuss the 7^th.
La Tour Eiffel.
Or the well-appointed flat, at 225 Rue de l'Université.

These were his most joyful moments.

In La Ville-Lumière.

Why do we never talk about Paris?

Implode. Part LXXXV - DK

Longitude

A place to begin.

The prime meridian of the world, at The Royal Observatory.
Greenwich, England. The precision in lines - DK

Siren

Still, I hear you call.

LC sauntering through the wind swept gardens of the Getty Villa.
Malibu, CA. Hellenic - DK

(This installment was initially posted at vaionyva.com on 28 July 2013. There was an oversight upon my part and thus it was not posted here on that same date. My apologies - DK)

Possession

And once you've acquired it all?

La Mappa dell'Impero Romano, at the Basilica of Maxentius and Constantine.
Rome, Italy. Part III of IV - DK

Implode (Once More)

It had begun to drizzle again.

He listened as the raindrops pelted the Swedish glass, which was hand-blown and spun in Småland, by the tradition that is Kosta Glasbruk. There was a musicality to the droplets as they encountered the molten crystal, that was now a solid barrier between nearly three hundred years of private banking and the aqueous corridors of SoHo.

Though he occasionally turned his attention toward the peated aroma of the Ardbeg, which idled patiently upon the licorice marble counter top, he was still attuned toward the aquatic symphony that was occurring upon the Mulberry window pane. As he identified each note in its sonic splendor, he began to wonder whether the melodic occurrence was intended, for its resonance was ardent and purposeful, as though his friend had cut the slates of glass himself.

Benjamin absorbed the vanilla scented air deeply into his lungs, before exhaling in a weighted sigh, and turning his attention toward the scotch once more. Though his Tom Ford ensemble, the noir Wetherby jacket, the matching tailored pant, the white evening shirt, and black silk tie, were attentive upon his person and seemingly ready to depart, the de Gris Laurent heir maintained his post at the kitchen island, peering deeply into the chestnut beverage, as though it were an oracle of Islay.

And then it was decided.

He would begin with the egg caviar, accompanied by the young garlic soup, before moving on to the roasted loin of lamb. He was certain that if he could focus upon the particulars of the evening and not the lush panorama...

The supple parting
The moistened softness
the red allure

Of L:ucy's mouth,

He raised the glass of scotch to his lips, consuming the beverage.

He then turned his attention toward the Burmese door.

Implode. Part LXXXIV - DK

Behold

Because love begins with a gaze.

La mappa dell'Impero Romano, at the Basilica of Maxentius and Constantine.
Rome, Italy. Part II of IV - DK

Implode (Cortina d'Ampezzo, 1997)

His inspiration for the Mulberry Eva stemmed from their visit to the medieval to town of Cortina d'Ampezzo, in the Italian Alps, anno domini 1997. They lodged at the Hotel Cortina on Corso Italia 92, favorably located  in the centre of town. Following a day of the skillful navigation of Alpine trees, adorned high upon ivory powdered slopes, they would rendezvous at his mountain retreat, 1,224 meters above sea level, where roasted duck, a 1982 Château Haut-Brion, and a stone fireplace, built of medieval masonry, laid in wait of their frigid arrival.

It was an audacious chesterfield of red velvet, eight-way hand tied, and finished with a fine lockstitch of white silk. The frame was Ceylon ebony, which he sculpted by hand, into a formidable support to accommodate the breadth of silks and goose feathers he was to employ. Within the crimson cushions of the back support, he utilized gold thread to embroider a symmetrical series of the fleur-de-lis. Such appliqué, the embroidery in particular, was not a task for the abrupt. The work required the skill of a still hand and had consumed a considerable portion of his days, since he insisted upon the the use of natural light in his work. All foretold, the construction would outlast the winter.

Still he was undeterred.

For he was akin to those who worked, those who fought, and those who prayed.

As the helicopter continued its ascent over the French principality, Maxwell continued his gaze over the snow covered Alps in the distance, the apricot embers of a foregone fireplace, still adept at keeping him warm.

Implode. Part LXXXIII - DK

Prelude

Prelude to an embrace.

La mappa dell'Impero Romano, at the Basilica of Maxentius and Constantine.
Rome, Italy. Part I of IV - DK

Implode (Arrival in Fontvieille)

It was not until she observed the hour upon her Ballon Bleu de Cartier, that she fully realised the newness of the day. It was 7:07 a.m. to be certain and the sky was obscured by a grey veil of fog. Even so, she was not disenchanted, as there was a subtlety to the calamity between Apollo and the shade. From the helipad, it appeared as though the sky might clear, giving way to a crystal morning on the Côte d'Azur. And yet, despite his renown, the overwhelm of moisture laden clouds was not to be outdone by the god's incandescent brilliance. Claire Mulberry continued to stare out onto the horizon. She was entranced by the particular quality of the tide and the manner in which the sea foam found its way ashore. She observed, intoxicated by the spirited waves, accompanied by the wind, as they swept the mist against the coastline. The spectacle was continuous, the vapor becoming synonymous with the air, as though a whisper of the Nereids were lost on the plume.

And as she sat within the leather comfort of the EC 135, the Hermès interior an aromatic reminder of their current locale, she continued to contemplate an eternity within her husband's embrace, the genius of his hands, and the profoundness of her love, which was far deeper than the Mediterranean beyond the aircraft windows. As the helicopter prepared its ascent, she gave her thoughts even more leisure to roam. In fact, she thought of Rome, the simplicity of Florentine cuisine, and their suite at the Plaza Athènèe in Paris, where the duplex accommodations with sweeping views of the city, provided inexplicable comfort on 31 December, as they celebrated the dawn of a new year.

She loved New Year's Eve in Paris. They both did. It had become tradition.

So had the Hotel du Cap. However, an appearance upon its secluded beaches had usually been reserved for mid-summer. Still she did not question him, nor his love, which she knew to be far greater than the Mediterranean, beyond the aircraft windows.

Implode. Part LXXXII - DK

Palazzo

A place to call home.

Il Palazzo Vecchio.
Florence, Italy. Grand beginnings - DK