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| Eleanor Clare 'My Horn is a Chalice' image by Klara Sofie Ludvigsen |
The sun is
bright and the sky clear, but the wind is cool and bracing. A satin cape beats about the body, flat
across the chest and flying out behind.
Arms spread wide feel the breeze lift the fabric as though it were wings. The shadow cast is a tall proud creature, the
slender translucent horn atop its head almost floating out in advance of the
rest of the body, elevating it beyond its means.
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| Eleanor Clare 'My Horn is a Chalice' photo by Anne Marthe Dyvi |
As I rose up from the ground I was asked to imagine. Where was I?
What is this landscape? It was
springtime, in a grassy verdure on the edge of a forest, bluebells scattered
along the path, and a stream. This was
somewhere in the land of fairytales; an idyllic place. But the Unicorn is not as I expected it to
be. It appears to come out of the sky.
It is like a cloud that comes to life. Its
huge head and mane start to circle around me. It nuzzles around my whole
body. I sense that it is extremely
loving and caring. It is not quite of
flesh; it is more an apparition. When it disappears, it vanishes just like a
vapour trail, back up into the sky. I am
left standing in this landscape all alone.
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| Eleanor Clare 'My Horn is a Chalice' photo by Randi Grov Berger |
