The woman is full dreamweaver, she has to be... I've looked at half a dozen of her still photos, no more than that and the image just jumped into my head intact, complete. Only a dreamweaver of significant power can do that.
See an airfield in the background, the shimmer of heat rising above the flat tarmac, the blue of a summer sky above... focus on the airplane parked there, shown quarter profile from the front, nose to tail fills most of the width, the bottom third of the frame. It's a P-51D Mustang, warrior of the skies. See the man, the pilot, seated on the leading edge of the wing, right arm up with his hand on his mount, the posture of a caress. Now shift and look at the skin of the aircraft, see what he is caressing. It's not the bird herself, it's the woman painted on her, his hand resting on her flank.
She's long, and sleek, the lines of her body fit the curves of the bird, stretched out full length down the engine cowling onto the fuselage, one arm full extended above her head, center line on the prop spinner fist forward, one leg extended behind to a pointed toe, the other gathered beneath her, toes curling around the root of the wing as if she were springing forward, the downhill arm tucked back, elbow against her body, hand pointed forward in the posture of the stabbing fingertip blow, her nails very long and pointed. A flag drapes over one shoulder, the red and white stripes flowing back covering one breast, leaving the other bare, the union field behind her emphasising the curve of her hip... she's Miss Laura, and she's pissed. If her posture didn't tell you that the look on her face does. Seventy years later you can still hear her, that sultry sweet voice with just the tiniest warning, the tiniest hint of a snarl: "Come on up baby, come on up and play, rumor is you know how to dance..."
Now lift your eyes away from the warrior lovers, look into the sky and realize there is more there than clouds, realize that you point of view has faded five miles into the sky, you're looking back and down over the wing, Miss Laura's nose up, wing coming over as she turns to pursue the pair of Focke-Wulf 190's, her most formidable foe, that have just burst from the cumulus cloud and are streaking below, making a run at the bombers. Take note of the pilots eyes, you can see his face clearly, his eyes and expression an exact match for Miss Laura's demeanor...
Don't you just love a dreamweaver? Artwork to follow...
No comments:
Post a Comment