This is an image I made in memory of my friend Peter Speight.
Sadly the first part of Peter's journey came to an end last week. He was 46.
His eyes always sparkled with the light of life.
It seems impossible that he is dead.
I feel sick.
Here's his blog - he was an anglo saxon sculptor, in the spiritual sense of the word.
There is an adult warning on the blog.
The photographs in this post are not mine. They were borrowed from his face book page and also from the face book page set up by his friends.
Some burn damp faggots, others may consume
The entire combustible world in one small room
As though dried straw, and if we turn about
The bare chimney is gone black out
Because the work had finished in that flare.
Soldier, scholar, horseman, he,
As 'twere all life's epitome.
What made us dream that he could comb grey hair?
Peter with of one of his sculptures at our place at an after opening party. He was particularly proud of this one, wanted to have his photograph taken with it. I'm so glad he did. We have three of his works - this was his favourite, a circus acrobat,