Ouch, the beauty is hurting me

Just back from Bendigo.

Cannot (gasp) blog about Golden Age of Couture exhibition yet (pant).

Dresses. Too. Beautiful..... (gulp, wheeze) ... Tailoring. Too. Exquisite.

Must rest, and shield eyes of memory from extraordinary beauty. Visions of silk faille overwhelming me. Drowning in remembered pleats. Cannot scrape image of Hardy Amies fuschia wool coat from imprint on inside of eyelids.

Need recovery wine - a lot - now. Must numb all nerves currently screeching with exhilaration.

Lying down. Cold compress placed on hot and bothered forehead.

Promise to blog further tomorrow, when pointillistic painful effect of overwhelming beauty has receded.

(Postscript: at lunchtime in random cafe, had amazing coffee with face of Zephyrus - god of wind - etched in crema. Was quite astonished by esoteric mythological reference. Picture attached as proof. Nearly as incredible as exhibition itself.)

Further recovery wine definitely required.