Funerals, Love, Death, Grief, Friendships, Deptford, the Creek. Ghosts, both alive and dead, march through these pages, some lightly, some with a heavier tread. Arthur, Dorothea, Albert, Susan, Shelly.
Albert’s funeral at St Brides, dear, dear Dorothea visiting the studio and liking my lithographs. Lithography paper so creamy smooth and tinged with rose, like a baby’s skin only smoother.
Pressed flowers, roses, wildflower, rosemary for remembrance. A dried flower is so redolent of death, drained of all colour; veins and dessicated skin. Sepia; the colour of Victorian photographs. The light pouring into the Deptford studio through the huge windows. In a previous century.
The death of friendship, the death of hope, the death of love.