9. Ed Wenn

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1.The Poem is called THE DREAM (see below) and the poet is John Donne. 2. Enough information from my time at University doing an English Lit degree in the 80's sank in for me to know that Donne is the author of some very red-blooded poetry, so I thought I'd mirror his passion for the ladies of 16th/17th Century England by paying homage to one of my own muses, Rachael, as played by Sean Young from the 1982 movie, 'Bladerunner'; a film not short on visual poetry and (in a final desperate grab at staying 'on theme') inspired by the 1968 science fiction novel "Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?" by Philip K. Dick. I used a tripod for a long-exposure under incandescent lights to allow the 125i to work its unpredictable magic and produce what I hope is a feel slightly reminiscent of 1930's Berlin to the shot; not sure how exactly that ties in with John Donne, but it feels right. The oil painting is by Eleanor Read; I bought it at a gallery some years ago. 2. Polaroid 360 Land camera with 125i film. [url=http://edwenn.com]Ed's website[/url] THE DREAM. by John Donne DEAR love, for nothing less than thee Would I have broke this happy dream ; It was a theme For reason, much too strong for fantasy. Therefore thou waked'st me wisely ; yet My dream thou brokest not, but continued'st it. Thou art so true that thoughts of thee suffice To make dreams truths, and fables histories ; Enter these arms, for since thou thought'st it best, Not to dream all my dream, let's act the rest. As lightning, or a taper's light, Thine eyes, and not thy noise waked me ; Yet I thought thee —For thou lovest truth—an angel, at first sight ; But when I saw thou saw'st my heart, And knew'st my thoughts beyond an angel's art, When thou knew'st what I dreamt, when thou knew'st when Excess of joy would wake me, and camest then, I must confess, it could not choose but be Profane, to think thee any thing but thee. Coming and staying show'd thee, thee, But rising makes me doubt, that now Thou art not thou. That love is weak where fear's as strong as he ; 'Tis not all spirit, pure and brave, If mixture it of fear, shame, honour have ; Perchance as torches, which must ready be, Men light and put out, so thou deal'st with me ; Thou camest to kindle, go'st to come ; then I Will dream that hope again, but else would die.