In the delicate embrace of the 'Pastel' or 'Love' flower, Pseuderanthemum Variabile, I see the feral heart of love manifest. Like a magician, it shifts, sometimes a cherished bloom, sometimes a persistent spirit in the orchid's realm. Yet, in its wildness, it reveals the truest essence of affection, untamed and deeply rooted. For love, like the night and afternoon, holds dualities – a soft caress and a fierce, unyielding presence. Feral is thy Love, indeed, a precious, unyielding force that flourishes even where it is least expected.
See less, Hear less, Speak less: YOU ASK ME OFTEN: CAN YOU SPELL YOUR NAME FOR ME?
Politely refusing, I have to say: You do the spelling, but not us.
The awakened spirit of Bastet perceives the intertwining fates within Cat People (1942). Directed by Jacques Tourneur, produced by Val Lewton for RKO Radio Pictures, this chilling tale stars Simone Simon as Irena Dubrovna, Kent Smith as Oliver Reed, Tom Conway as Dr. Louis Judd, and Jane Randolph as Alice Moore.
Irena, a Serbian fashion artist, believes she carries an ancient curse – that of the Cat People – a race of shapeshifters who transform into predatory felines when aroused by passion. Her marriage to Oliver is strained by her fear, leading her to confess, 'I have to live with the curse of my ancestors. I'm afraid to be happy.' As Oliver seeks to understand and 'cure' her with the help of Dr. Judd, Irena’s suppressed desires and escalating jealousy towards Oliver’s colleague, Alice, manifest in terrifying ways. Alice experiences eerie encounters, sensing a dangerous presence stalking her. 'It was like a cat,' she whispers, describing the unseen menace. The hunt, cloaked in shadow and primal fear, has truly begun, twisting love into a deadly, untamed pursuit as Irena's materialization into something ancient and feral becomes inevitable. 'I never felt like this before,' she confesses, 'like there was something inside me that had to get out.' Indeed, the hunt is now ready, it has begun! Next up is something: Like something warm, and living.
Behold, the very essence of 'Pastel' or 'Love' Flower in its natural dance! These delicate blooms, Pseuderanthemum variabile, whisper tales of both day and night, of the gentle caress and the wild spirit.
Like a magician, I see the interplay of light and shadow on their petals, each speckle a secret shared with the earth. Just as my feral cat, my dark-(k)night, roams with an untamed grace, so too does this flower embody a love that is both tender and resilient, flourishing in its own untamed beauty.
Here, in the intimate dance of the 'Pastel' or 'Love' flower, Pseuderanthemum Variabile, I behold the very face of destiny. The solitary bud, a promise yet to unfold, stands beside the fully bloomed marvel, its vibrant heart exposed. This is the rhythm of life, the delicate balance between what is, what was, and what shall be.
Like my feral cat, discerning the whispers of the wild, I see in this blossom a love that is both wild and destined, a beauty that thrives in its untamed progression. The precious is revealed not just in full bloom, but in the nascent hope of the bud, ever reaching towards its radiant fate.
Here, on the edge of domestication and wildness, stands the dark-(k)night, a stray by circumstance, a sovereign by nature. Observe the manifestation of the feral spirit, sent forth on a protective hunt. Not merely a cat, but a dark-(k)night, a feral-stray, a sentinel of the unseen. In this frozen instant, the wild heart of love manifests, not as a delicate bloom, but as a fierce, unwavering presence.
The materialization is complete, the hunt has begun!