"O Solitude! if I must with thee dwell,Let it not be among the jumbled heap
Of murky buildings; climb with me the steep,-
Nature’s observatory - whence the dell,
Its flowery slopes, its river’s crystal swell,
May seem a span; let me thy vigils keep
’Mongst boughs pavillion’d, where the deer’s swift leap
Startles the wild bee from the fox-glove bell.
But though I’ll gladly trace these scenes with thee,
Yet the sweet converse of an innocent mind,
Whose words are images of thoughts refin’d,
Is my soul’s pleasure; and it sure must be
Almost the highest bliss of human-kind,
When to thy haunts two kindred spirits flee. "
-John Keats
photographs by Charlotte Ortholary
After these pictures I realized how dissatisfied I was with this outfit. To analyze it in the literal/visual sense it is too busy for my tastes. I find fault in the two-tone accessories and the large print, but the trouble is greater than that. I try to keep my room uncluttered; I hang few pictures and rarely paint my walls, but much like my outfits which start simply and end hidden beneath accessories, things pile up. Vintage National Geographics litter the floor, bookshelves are crowded with as many heels as novels, and my nightstand is a veritable bazaar of discarded rings, necklaces, electronics, and books. This chaos is a better reflection of my true nature than any minimalistic outfit or bare-walled room, but the disorder only adds to my mind's hectic sprawl. My thoughts are always in a dozen places at once, rarely consumed by the present. I seek tranquil, empty landscapes to rest my head upon and try to dress my body in uncomplicated, sweet pieces that might counterbalance my nature. My eyes grow tired from too many points of stimulation and I do not need to wear my restless mind on my sleeve...
