“There is a willow grows aslant a brook,
That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream;
Therewith fantastic garlands did she make
Of crow-flowers, nettles, daisies, and long purples
That liberal shepherds give a grosser name,
But our cold maids do dead men’s fingers call them:
There, on the pendent boughs her coronet weeds
Clambering to hang, an envious sliver broke;
When down her weedy trophies and herself
Fell in the weeping brook. Her clothes spread wide;
And, mermaid-like, awhile they bore her up:
Which time she chanted snatches of old lauds;
As one incapable of her own distress,
Or like a creature native and indued
Unto that element: but long it could not be
Till that her garments, heavy with their drink,
Pull’d the poor wretch from her melodious lay
To muddy death.” — Hamlet
[Editorial via Korean Vogue Girl - April 2007]
I love this pictorial, the dark waters, the color palette, the myth of Ophelia, the aquatic plants … I dig it.
Love it. Remember the “art to go” painting of Ophelia in I.C.? I must have checked that out 3 or 4 times. One of my favorite morbid visuals.
I love Hamlet and Ophelia!! ;-P Nice post!!!
These are so beautiful. I’m thinking about re-posting but I feel like half my blog is re-posted from you! Why does everything you find have to be so awesome?!
I’m blushin’! Feel free to repost — I wasn’t the first to find it myself. Such a beautiful spread!
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