When Emi was originally entertaining summer theme ideas, she wanted to incorporate some element of Egyptian flair and Cleopatra vibes. We have reached that turn after a Solid Gold start, and our golden glory will thread its way through this Egyptian excursion along the Nile. We begin with a fragrance, as Egyptian as anything we’ll ever conjure here, and in keeping with the lighter touch of Cleopatra aspects. Sur de Nil was reportedly created with the inspiration of the Nile River running tranquilly in the background. It’s a lovely soft beginning for our own Egyptian journey here, which turns the soundtrack around in eclectic fashion worthy of my occasionally-eclectic niece. She takes after her fun Uncle in that way (and several others). And so we tip-toe into the pyramids, into a land of sand and sunlight, heat and papyrus and the sound of water running along like the sole savior it has become.
Do not speak to me of Queens and Kings, whisper only of love and beauty. Crowns and titles never impressed anyone around here, contrary to popular assumption. Still, pomp and circumstance passes the time, and we humans are notoriously in need of entertainment and amusement, so let us aim to enthrall you with this turn on our summer journey. There are palm trees swaying in the warm breeze, and a romantic aspect of night that pulls you along the with the current of the river.
“All strange and terrible events are welcome, but comforts we despise.” – Cleopatra
The conundrum of summer: such glorious atmosphere, such dark nights, such tease and please and unease. We find a way in the dizzying sunlight, only to forget the path by the time we wake from an afternoon nap. Dangers and delights alike, and no one could ever really tell the difference depending on how the shadows appear. Summer tempting, summer limiting, summer its own diabolical sphinx, impossible to riddle any sort of sense or meaning, and still we yearn, still we strive, still we grasp at the asp intent only on getting out alive, on seeking its own survival.
“I rested my temples on the breast of temptation, and put my neck voluntarily under her yoke of flowers; I tasted her cup. The pillow was burning: there is an asp in the garland: the wine has a bitter taste: her promises are hollow- her offers false. I see and know all this.” – Charlotte Bronte
