The Delights of Spring

    Spring

O spring! what happiness you bring!
Cherry blossom is in bloom
The skies are clear blue forever,
Sunshine warms my lifted cheek
And o, my thrilling heart will sing.
Balmy nights are stirred by breezes soft
Stars, it seems, twinkle brighter,
Early birds waking, chirp as though
Their hearts with joy are breaking
And o—! my spirit soars aloft.

Is there any more thrilling turn of the seasons than spring? Just when everyone has had enough of winter, spring comes along to save the day. Who could fail to be happy when miserable, dripping grey skies are swept away by clear blue?

I have always had a sneaking liking for Fragonard’s Rococo painting The Swing. As an art student you’re not supposed to like it because it’s pretty and frivolous and all that, but I did anyway. It is the perfect expression of such a delightful season, don’t you think?

The Swing, Jean Honoré Fragonard, 1767I had always wanted to create a picture in homage, but was flummoxed by the mad pink dress Fragonard’s model is sporting. Of course, I do work at a theatre, but it feels like cheating to borrow from the wardrobe department.

Then some 1940s lingerie swept into my life. This peachy-pink floor length nightgown and matching ruffled robe (six tiers of ruffles, count ‘em!) printed with posies of roses all over are so extravagant, so grand, they are jaw-dropping. Irresistible. Stupendous. You get the picture … Where and when on earth am I going to wear them? Pffffft. That’s not the point!

time constraints precluded my coaxing a hapless lover to look up my skirts …

Nor do I have access to a swing in a rural and idyllic setting, and time constraints precluded my coaxing a hapless lover to look up my skirts and minion to push the swing, but I wasn’t going to let that stop me either. A large specimen of a ficus macrophylla (Moreton bay fig) tree in the Royal Botanic Gardens (my backyard) would do for a setting. A statue of Diana from the Parc de La Tamarita in Barcelona, and a cupid from my sister Star’s garden add the picturesque.

And the pièce de résistance, the dainty slipper flying provocatively in the air? A little beaded souvenir from Vietnam. (And oh, the poem is by me.)

Enjoy the sunshine!