Leaving the first session of the photography seminar From Memory to Experience, I pushed open the heavy wooden door and was greeted with fresh icy flecks that danced across my bare cheeks, before pulling thick, white, fake fur further around my exposed neck. In the glacial garden, stood bronze deer statues, frozen in place. There was
a neat layer of snow decorated upon them, like icing sugar on a cake. So still, I thought, like in the Ice Queen`s castle, as if
they were waiting to be awakened from a spell. "Sleep well", "Have a good rest". Fellow seminarians called to each other through the bitter air, breaking deafening silence, only to be compounded seconds later by layers of thick snow. Walking up to the gilded regal entrance of 18th Century Schloss Leopoldskron, the amber lamp glowed against the icy blue dusk. It was as if I had been transported back to 1918 when Max Reinhardt first acquired the estate. The glow spread warmth into my tired limbs, as I gently pushed open the Jugendstil wrought iron gate, giving speed to my step to start walking back through the old town and home. Film Noir like flood lights swept dramatically across steep, narrow, winding stone paths. Not a soul around. Italian style villas mixed with quaint Hansel and Gretel cottages, smoke gently puffing out into frosty night air. Inside spacious rooms candescent with partially visible golden baroque decor. Stepping down stones coated with fresh snow felt like walking on cotton wool stretched across a damp floor. Finally, little doorway found and inviting warmth within.
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