My Perspective
written by: Fiona Paterson
A shared moment in the presence of the Pre-Raphaelites is etched cold.
I long for us to gaze and dwell on luminescent colours and sink together into lush scenes,
To bind my hands with Millais, Rossetti
And you.
The beauty
The Beloved
“Arise my love, my fair one and come away.”
But this moment drowns along with Ophelia and the botanical symbols
As the tourists’ buttons click, the thumbnails save
And Watts-App facsimiles away.
Casting aside the rich tapestry of the loom
The Lady of Shalott drifts through her life on canvas,
She chooses ephemeral love now,
Not the sadness of life in the painted mirror of Venus.
In Oscar Wildish imitation, I too unravel and drift from the room,
Edging past babbling, mobile-armed pupils in uniform colours.
Leaving the Beloved and them and the myriad pictures of pictures within pictures
And the two-dimensional sends.
Beyond the lenses, copies and photos and
Eternally varnished images.
Passing through the glass revolving doors darkly
I emerge blinking in the grey filtered light
Of a London day.
January rain-soaked steps reflect our forms
And I sense the brush of framing lashes
As I absorb the colour of your now vibrant eyes.
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:
Written after a visit to the Tate Gallery – and seeing so many people viewing the art-work through the lens of a camera-phone and sharing via social media.
- My Perspective - March 21, 2026
- Bind No Roses with Twine - November 14, 2025
