Vincent in his chamber untying the leather laces of his shirt

LOVE … because of it

The series – Love … Because of It – will illustrate Vincent and Catherine’s more intimate time together, measured in a romantic (gauzy but not overly graphic) way, accompanied by a favored poem. 

(These will be private moments, so scroll on with that awareness!)

The series – Love, Because of It – will illustrate Vincent and Catherine’s more intimate time together, measured in a romantic (gauzy but not overly graphic) way, accompanied by a favored poem.

 

(These will be private moments, so scroll on with that awareness!)

Echo

by Carol Ann Duffy

I think I was searching for treasures or stones
in the clearest of pools
when your face…

when your face,
like the moon in a well
where I might wish…

might well wish
for the iced fire of your kiss;
only on water my lips, where your face…

where your face was reflected, lovely,
not really there when I turned
to look behind at the emptying air…

the emptying air.

Vincent and Catherine in bed, Catherine gazing down into his eyes. Beyond them, fireworks light the window.

Fireworks

I Would Love To Say

by Tyler Knott Gregson

I would sleep with the thought of you,
with the silhouette
of a single memory, with the scent
left hours after you’ve touched me.

I would lose myself in the folds
of your dress, the fabric
of the shirt you wore when you
fell asleep leaned against
my shoulder. Paint me
in the soft focus fog of your
tenderness, pull me from
myself.

Text reads: Hurry home. There's a Fire. Catherine sitting in front of a lit fireplace, Vincent elsewhere, but in her thoughts, at work, shirtless, wielding a heavy rock hammer.

There’s a fire

 

fragment 38

by Sappho (6th century BCE)

you burn me

V and C in a fire-like setting, V behind C with his chin on her head, gazing confidently into the camera

At the Touch of You

by Witter Bynner

 

At the touch of you,
As if you were an archer with your swift hand at the bow,
The arrows of delight shot through my body.

You were spring,
And I the edge of a cliff,
And a shining waterfall rushed over me.

C and V in a romantic embrace, V kneeling at the water's edge and C in his lap. They're kissing!

I Would Love To Say

by Tyler Knott Gregson

I would love to say
that you
make me
weak in the knees,
but
to be quite upfront
and completely
truthful,
you make my body forget
it has knees
at all.

V and C in a romantic moment in bed. Vincent is, ummm, close to her.

I Have Found What You Are Like

by e e cummings

(excerpted)

 

And the coolness of your smile is
stirringofbirds between my arms;but
i should rather than anything
have(almost when hugeness will shut
quietly)almost,
your kiss

Vincent nearly kissing Catherine. She's wearing only a low-draped sheet.

Flirtation

by Rita Dove

 

After all, there’s no need
to say anything

at first. An Orange, peeled
and quartered, flares

like a tulip on a wedgewood plate
Anything can happen.

Outside the sun
has rolled up her rugs

and night strewn salt
across the sky. My heart

is humming a tune
I haven’t heard in years!

Quiet’s cool flesh –
let’s sniff and eat it.

There are ways
to make of the moment

a topiary
so the pleasure’s in

walking through

Vincent and Catherine in a private moment, Catherine beneath the bedsheet risen to her elbows, Vincent inching closer for a kiss

It Is Here

by Harold Pinter

 

What sound was that?

I turn away, into the shaking room.

What was that sound that came in on the dark?
What is this maze of light it leaves us in?
What is this stance we take,
To turn away and then turn back?
What did we hear?

It was the breath we took when we first met.

Listen. It is here.

Catherine asleep (but with a slight smile on her face), Vincent easing into bed, shirtless, a rose in his hand as he pulls back the covers

Assurance

by Emma Lazarus

 

Last night I slept, and when I woke her kiss
Still floated on my lips. For we had strayed
Together in my dream, through some dim glade,
Where the shy moonbeams scarce dared light our bliss.
The air was dank with dew, between the trees,
The hidden glow-worms kindled and were spent.
Cheek pressed to cheek, the cool, the hot night-breeze
Mingled our hair, our breath, and came and went,
As sporting with our passion. Low and deep
Spake in mine ear her voice: “And didst thou dream,
This could be buried? This could be sleep?
And love be thrall to death! Nay, whatso seem,
Have faith, dear heart; this is the thing that is!”
Thereon I woke, and on my lips her kiss.

Catherine and Vincent in a lovers embrace in a bathing chamber. Behind them, the waterfall, the bathing pool. Vincent is on his knees, Catherine pulled close.

Tie Your Heart at Night to Mine

by Pablo Neruda

 

Tie your heart at night to mine, love,
and both will defeat the darkness
like twin drums beating in the forest
against the heavy wall of wet leaves.

Night crossing: black coal of dream
that cuts the thread of earthly orbs
with the punctuality of a headlong train
that pulls cold stone and shadow endlessly.

Love, because of it, tie me to a purer movement,
to the grip on life that beats in your breast,
with the wings of a submerged swan,

So that our dream might reply
to the sky’s questioning stars
with one key, one door closed to shadow.

Catherine and Vincent in a lovers embrace in a bathing chamber. Behind them, the waterfall, the bathing pool. Vincent is on his knees, Catherine pulled close.

6 Comments

  1. Love all of this!!! Thanks for sharing your talent!

    Reply
    • Thank you, Deb! I’m so glad to know you visited and really happy to hear you liked the project.Happy Winterfest!

      Carole

      Reply
  2. What a wonderful Winterfest gift to all of us! Thank you for letting us into this beautiful world!

    Reply
    • Thank you, Linda! I’m sorry I’m just now replying a year-plus late! I had to have seen your post at its appearance, but the bustle of Winterfest must have distracted me.

      These images are always fun, if challenging artistically, to create (I think of Jamie Murray’s example, his painting “Needs More Hair”, in the back of my mind throughout the process). But I do enjoy imagining their dreams fully realized. And searching out just the right poetry is a wonderful pastime, as I know you know. 🙂 Sometimes the image comes first, sometimes the poem and both can take days! But … days of heaven (and distraction from the occasional writer’s block or frustration, LOL)

      Thanks again, for visiting and for letting me know you enjoyed it.

      Hugs!

      Reply
  3. don’t let love be covered with hate or ignorance because Vincent is a man all the way he just Jason Mamoa, Nicholas Asford , Michel Balton

    Reply
    • Hi, again, Kim. I’m not exactly sure what you mean in your comment, but I do glean some dissatisfaction in this project! Thank you, though, for taking the time to leave a review.

      I agree Vincent is a man – I believe *more* than a man – and, as Catherine said in Nor Iron Bars a Cage, the best part of what it means to be human. I think he’s a beauty as well, and depicting that is my lighthearted goal with these images. Not everyone is a fan of such, I know, which is why I made the project, Shirtless In The Tunnels and this one, Love … Because of It, an extra click from the main art page. I’m so sorry you were disappointed on your first visit to Imagine That.

      Carole W

      Reply

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