Absent

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I met Daphne in summertime five years ago in Alfriston. She was dressed in pale blue trousers and a white blouse, a quirky sun hat and white sunglasses. She was carrying an old fim camera she'd had since the 70's and approached me to ask about the camera and lens I was using. It was immediately clear that she was a unique individual; she hopped from one foot to another, often dipping slightly as she chattered, like a butterfly flitting from one flower head to another. She moved away from the subject of cameras and on to lots of other quite disconnected subjects, in and out of locations and time zones like some kind of whimsical time traveller.

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She became an often daily feature in our life from that day onwards until her untimely death two years ago. Deciphering her stories and tales uncovered a life fraught with the extreme and often disturbing effects of bi-polar disorder.

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I walked with her a few times around a field, the one in the photographs I made without her by my side. I felt her absence here very much.

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“It's so much darker when a light goes out than it would have been if it had never shone.”
[John Steinbeck, 'The Winter of Our Discontent', 1961]

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