Memories Of A Life
What are the memories of a life, of her life? The details we did’t see or notice when she was alive. Half used make up kits that were her face for the day, photographs of who knows who hiding like children between pages in books, pages scribbled with her notes thoughts ideas insights. Memories are her tea bags and coffee, sugar sachets from cafes with their penny philosophies and small packets of her favourite herbs, whose smells remind me of the beach and bright afternoons.