When Eve is a grand dame
Cara Taylor by © Yulia Gorbachenko for LOVE WANT—in Loius Vuitton, styled by Sandy Armeni.
Eating round apples with model Cara Taylor
Innocence of the world. These are the words French poet André Salmon chose to start a poem once. Then he writes of the tree of knowledge and its round apple. He tells us that this tree is a May tree, the Tree of Liberty. Adored … planted in front of the cathedral emptied of cantors. Today, many cathedrals are emptied of bodies, too, but the hunger for round apples is ever-present in the people who adore the world. And though we will never know what the late poet meant by his verses, we can bathe in the words of the brave to remind us of what it means to live in the shadow of lighted cathedrals, lionhearted.
‘When Eve is a grand dame,’ Salmon dared to pen, painting his own picture of the mother of all living that reads unlike any other. His courage, our cue to carve our own interpretations of the cosmos from the mystical material of ripe mythology.
‘The lead of the printing presses flows like a river,’ Salmon muses on. ‘To melt the alphabet of the new humanities.’ And thus it is for us to consciously decide—well versed in our re-solidified alphabet—in front of which cathedrals will we plant our May trees?
