|
|
Wednesday, February 13th, 2008
|
9:33p - this is no modern romance
On Saturday an oversized pink heart appeared in the shopfront window at work, suspended from the ceiling, neon and encrusted with macaroons. The light hearted Christmas display had been replaced by rich red and fuschia satins and perfectly cut-out cardboard hearts in red and white.
Inside, the macaroons themselves (chocolate, rose and raspberry - I wasn't entirely sure and had to do a taste test) were suddenly heartshaped and rows of shiny chocolates appeared in at least six different shapes. I drew a key for the store. Cocoa bean for coconut, the present - this incredible ginger, lime and macadamia concoction, igloo for chili. Big heart meant rose and the smaller heart, raspberry.
At home, a whiney doorbell announced the arrival of a bright red peacock feather, with black speckles and two smaller matching feathers that had been fashioned into rose-like shapes. My brother has been beside himself in anticipation of arrival was more than relieved when I texted him about the delivery. My Dad sat at the computer using word-art to decorate a menu he was making for the special Valentines Day dinner he is organising for the old peoples home. It's going to be a jazz night, he tells me.
And me? I took to making my own Valentines cards, this year not with red cardboard and doileys (which was very two years ago - literally!) but still listening to the Magic Numbers. I altered each message according to the receivers sensitivity to this heart-shaped themed holiday. I read in the paper today that for some it reinforces their perceived inferiority and failure. Which is terrible.
Exactly a year ago, I spent the lead up to Valentines Day wandering around the streets of Seoul, camera in hand, working on this photos essay for the paper I was working at. The highlight was watching this 70 year old Korean man bolt after his wife - who had fled the second she spotted my fat slr. But he was absolutely determined to have his photo taken and took chase, pushing through the crowded subway in an attempt to catch her. She hid behind a bin, quite unsuccessfully but I didn't end up taking their pic. It started snowing on Valentines Day that year as I left the office at 11pm, listening to the Beatles's Michelle and on my way to meet my housemates for drinks.
This year has a lot to live up to.
x
(comment on this)
|
|
|
|
