Through the gauzy, golden shimmer of a dream, I feast on your succulent image. I am a voyeur peeking through a curtain late at night, fueling rampant fantasies in my mind, collecting mental pictures to place in my private album. How I long to taste you like a fine wine, ripe and potent. I picture you on the vine, a luscious grape bursting with juice as I bite into you and feel the juice dribble down my chin. Do you lay in my indoor boudoir or adrift on a passing cloud oblivious to the world beneath you? Is my lens your captive, your slave that must obey your every whim? I wander around you, a minstrel without a song, a poet without words save those I capture. Yet every glimpse of you imprints on my mind, and I create my own ode to your ethereal perfection. Ruby red and raven black against cream. Where is my spoon to dip into your ice cream sundae? Must you continue to torment this humble photographer? I loiter on the steps of your marble temple, your devoted subject, a maiden-in-waiting, waiting for the turn of your head… a glance, a secret smile…
Musings on creative boudoir portraits by Diana Kemp (dianakemp.com)
Location: Denver, Colorado .
Copyright © Frances Photography 2020