Sunday, January 21, 2007


OK, I know, I know...Weddings, Births, and Funerals, the circle of life. It all came together to me at a friends wedding. No doubt they paid big money to have someone put a circle of rose petals under the canopy. Red at the center, then pink, then white.

Charged with taking some candid pre-wedding snaps, I was probably supposed to be sneaking around taking pictures of the flower girl or the brides maids giggling. But then, it was me. They chose me for the job. So what was I compelled to "shoot"? The circle of course. I was transfixed. I took one look at it and all I could see was a murder scene. A spot of blood at the center, ever widening as it spread out on the white carpet.

A very creepy symbol to stand upon for ones wedding...or is just my fear of marriage? Or more Jungian, that in marriage some part of the individual self must die? Or am I mixing up the French metaphor, la petite morte? (look it up for a laugh if you're not familiar)

Take a look, was it my morbid imagination?

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janet said...

hmmm, I don't know what it looked like "in the flesh" but it looks like a flat breast to me in the photo...which brings to mind a whole different set of symbolic relationships.

Trucha said...

Yeah, I'm with Janet (dammit). <--Sorry, had to throw that in. Anyways...only it could be further south down the female anatomy. But what kind of Rorshachian message does that reveal about me? Yikes!