Sunday Morning Soliloquy - Musings of an Urbanite: Have I Mentioned? I'm In Love... With Love!

Wednesday, May 22, 2013

Have I Mentioned? I'm In Love... With Love!

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Did you know that I am in LOVE... with LOVE!

Want to know more about me? Here are 100 THINGS more about me that you probably don't know.

Queue the song... "I Feel Love" by Donna Summer. Better yet, hit play on the Blondie cover below. "I Feel Love" Live Donna Summer Cover. Just audio, but like most other Blondie songs, it rules. 

What do I mean when I say, "I am in LOVE with LOVE." Like many others who are incapable of actually giving love, I tend to find myself in love with the gesture of love that one person (preferably a stranger) conveys to another. 

This may come as a surprise to most, but I often find myself swept away by the idea of true love, and deep love stories always bring me to my knees. There is only one other type of love that I find more mysterious and haunting than true love, that is -- unrequited love. My absolut favorite stories are those of a love that is not returned. Tragic, yet beautiful.

Read on and I will share with you two of my favorite love stories: my new favorite and my all time favorite love story.

My New Favorite Love Story 
The Duke and Duchess of Windsor

The other night I was watching the biography of King George V and Queen Mary on PBS, and although I was familiar with the story of King Edward, I wasn't aware of the love story between King Edward and Wallis Simpson.

King Edward, the eldest son of King George an Queen Mary, was a playboy, a reckless womanizer who had a penchant for married women. He ascended the throne upon his father's death in January of 1936 and abdicated by December of 1936. 

Why would a young man abdicate the throne and give up being KING of United Kingdom, Dominions of the British Commonwealth and Emperor of India? Perhaps he was crazy? Or, perhaps it was for love. 

In November of 1936, King Edward expressed his love and desire to be wed to a woman by the name of Wallis Simpson. Wallis was an American heiress who happened to be married at the time. The thought of an American sitting on the throne was impossible, what's worse, a twice divorced American!  The Prime Minister, The Church of England, and more importantly his mother, forbade it and Edward stepped down as King leaving the thrown to his younger brother (the one the movie was about). 

Wallis was forever referred to as "That Woman," a femme fatale with extreme sexual talents. To this day biographers claim to uncover new stories about Wallis and the possibility that she was a not entirely a woman, but an intersex, or suffered from Androgen Insensitivity Syndrome

Reading articles about Edward and Wallis, or the Duke and Duchess of Windsor, they were both odd creatures. He was rumored to be mad, and she was rumored to be bossy and vulgar. My favorite quote about the duo was, "Even if you hate them, you have to admit, they were perfect for each other." And in the end, what drives everyone crazy? The thought of two people who are in love unlike anyone else they've known, especially when it doesn't make sense inside their small conventional minds. 

My All Time Favorite Love Story
Dali and Gala -- the greatest love story of 20th Century! 

When I was 23, I backpacked alone through Europe. I spent nearly three months wandering and exploring whatever my heart desired - I was finally the gypsy I had forever longed to be. On my journey, I met two Australian boys and traveled with them to Spain. In Barcelona, I was told that the Dali museum was a short train ride away and that I should pay a visit. Being the pseudo-art-loving-wanabe that I was, I figured that I simply could not pass up the opportunity, and off to Figueres I went! 

Wandering the halls of the Dali museum, I was impressed and elated! Every inch of the museum was like a piece of art on it's own, it was perfect. After an hour or so, I began to notice a more than common theme, nearly each and every painting was an homage to the same woman, or at the very least, included her likeness in some way. 

As I was completing my tour of the Dali museum in Figueres, I headed to the gift shop -- I had to find out who this woman was! The only book about Dali's personal life that was available in English was a children's book, so I picked it up and started to read. 

Turns out the woman from the paintings was Gala, Dali's wife. They met when he was a young painter and she was an older woman who was already married to a French poet, Eluard (similarities to Wallis are apparent). According to the children's book, they met at a party in France, Dali was virtually unknown, and had accompanied his friend Joan Miro who was invited as a guest. 

(This next part may be made up and may be true, I sometimes have trouble with fantasy and reality - it is love after all.) 

Eluard told his wife it was time to go and she refused, instead Gala left the party with Dali. Shortly thereafter, Gala moved to Spain, leaving her husband behind, and spent the rest of her days with Dali. From that point forward they were inseparable. My favorite quote from the children's book at the museum was, "Even if you had never met Dali or Gala, and you entered a room where they were standing on opposite sides, you would feel a force - that was how close their bond was for one another." Gala was less than perfect, one article / blog post refers to her as "Dali's Demon Bride - Tales of Lust for Money and Men." 

The Immoral of My Story 

I'm not saying these stories of love are perfect, what I am saying is that for whatever reason, these two odd couples found each other in a sea of sameness. Think of the time, both women were born in the late 1800s, one was rich while the other was common, they were both (allegedly) sexual deviants who possessed strong characters, and both of their husbands were rumored to be homosexual. Why? 

I don't care what they were or what their husbands were. All I care about is that they found each other in a time where these types of circumstances were not just unheard of. Their love might not be the same as your love, or your parents love, but it was their version of love -- and both couples remained devoted to each other until they died. 

Dali even signed his paintings with Gala's name claiming "it is mostly with your blood that I paint my pictures". When Gala died, Dali had her buried inside the castle that he bought for her. Dali then became very ill, he moved into the castle and refused to leave until an accident where he burned his body badly and his family forced him to move out. 

It may not be right-in-the-head kind of love, but I'll take it any day over a white picket fence in the suburbs and 2.2 kids. 

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