Untitled|four seventeen

‘And now she cleans her teeth into the lake …’ (William Empson)

‘The events of my life would fill more than a novel. It would take an epic, the Iliad and the Odyssey, and a Homer to tell my story … I won’t recount it today, I don’t want to sadden you. I have fallen into an abyss. I live in a world so curious, so strange.  Of the dream that was my life, this is the nightmare.’ (Camille Claudel to Eugène Blot| Montdevergues Asylum)


‘Camille Claudel: A Life,’ Odile Ayral-Clause—A life, romanticised in print and in film; this work of scholarship dispels some of the myths that have been woven around Claudel’s life, not least around her relationship with Auguste Rodin; it offers a more considered picture of her achievements as a major sculptor in the Paris art world of the late-nineteenth-century.


A morning in spring, 1895’| 2017

At night he dreamt| the smell of apples heaped on barges floating down the river| rough studies sleeping under some cloth.

‘He was unwrapped by her breathing; by the rise and fall of her eyelids.’ (Eugène Blot)

‘Conscious of sleep a moment, and stars, turned over, once in the night.’| 2017

Littlemill, Fortnightly, Ardlach, Coulmony, Ferness …| Flo – requiescat