February 2012
6 posts
I want my sister back.
I just got this automatic email telling me “DON’T FORGET LUX’S BIRTHDAY”. They reckon you would like pink pearl earrings with 18ct yellow gold, or possibly a hot pink cashmere scarf. The present we were actually going to get you was much better. You would have loved it.
- Sean
Significant Otter
I had to think about what we did last year. I thought I’d just got up early and made you breakfast in bed but that must have been a few days before. You’d been up home I think.
You were at an event at the Hunterian in the evening, so I surprised you with a lovely roast lamb dinner when you got home. We fashioned a nest out of blankets and shared some fancy red wine in front of 30...
This past summer, we spent a day on Southwark Bridge with you reading to the crowd from Moby Dick and me trying to sweet-talk them into writing fishy poetry. I smiled every time you said ‘porpoise’ because it is a lovely word and you said it in a lovely way.
That day can only be called spectacular.
- Jennifer
I’m in a strange country, eating dumplings with spicy soy sauce and watching Arrested Development. It’s exactly like Korea, except you’re not here. I miss you.
January 2012
11 posts
I just woke up from a dream in which it turned out you were alive after all, it was just a silly misunderstanding. I don’t think I’ve ever been as happy as I was in that dream.
A Tribute, attributed
Hey Lux,
here’s some of the stuff I said at your service. I bet it’ll make you snicker.
-Connor
Lux, Lucinda, Lucy.
For a woman with so many separate names, Lux had an astounding skill for pulling things together
Outfits—it goes without saying.
Words—her text messages were something to behold. Never a comma out of place, she always had a beautiful economy of words but was never...
A Crude Canoe.
Dear Lu,
When we were at school we used to concoct elaborate, and ridiculous, escape plans. We ‘escaped’ from Food Technology lessons, PE or just school generally. After listing unlikely and likely exit routes they always ended the same way; “…and then I’d fashion a crude canoe…” It was a stupid joke, it was always the same, but it still makes me laugh....
Museum trip
I was at the Pitt Rivers Museum on Saturday, where the cabinets are crammed full of relics from our colonial days with neat little hand-written labels. The galleries dark and smelling of time and old polish.
It was like you were there. Like you were joyfully present, amidst shriveled heads and golden Buddhas, weaving on the simple looms or miming the use of the harpoons.
You would have liked it...
Thinking of Lucinda
I was thinking of you just last night, thinking you were still out there. As I was preparing food, making sure not to use the sharp edge of the knife to scrape the veggies into the dish. I know I’ve told you this before, I think of you -a little- every time I cook. You will forever remain alive in -at least- that moment, for me. Very simple, but very meaningful.
- Kyle
Collective Musings from The Hallams
Your hair that touched your bottom
The paddling pool with us four girles in and more specifically the time one of us pissed in it (naming no names!!)
Visiting you in Paris at Shakespeares, where your mentor hid pancakes all over the house - usually under cushions and other soft furnishings, you always kindly reminded us to be careful where we sat
Another wee story…The big blue climbing...
You and I, Ewan MacColl
You and I have feasted on the golden apples of the sun, And sailed on wild uncharted seas when the way was done. Between two heartbeats we have known a long eternity of joy; We’ve soared above the fields of space, the stars our toys. I give my heart and gain my soul. I’m only free when I am bound; Within the shelter of your arms I’m lost and found. You and I have drunk the moon,...
December 2011
14 posts
I’ve still got two of your bath robes hanging on the back of my door. Despite vaguely talking about giving them back to you, I never made much of an effort because, to be honest, I liked having a bit of Lux in my bedroom.
-Santiago
I’ve just spent a couple hours reading all our old conversations on Gmail, it feels a bit like talking to you again. I’m so happy to find them again, I thought I didn’t have much record of us. You know my memory is dire. I was hunting in vain for one really nice picture but they’re all just silly ones, which is just as good I guess. But they’re nice to read anyway. It...
You taught me...
How coffee is supposed to taste How to cook, and that using recipe books isn’t cheating What privilege means Where music comes from What good writing looks like How fashion works That I hated my job That I loved my friends That I still had ambition That there’s a whole world out there That I’m a good person, and worth caring about, and that I can do good things if I put my mind...
… even though we were just really getting to know each other, I thought you were incredibly special- so eloquent and intelligent, always sharing knowledge about surreal or little known things, fabulously creative (the t-shirts are so intricate and detailed), always up for trying new things and making friends, with a beautiful smile and a filthy laugh. Thank you for sunny times with...
I found out today- sitting on a bench in Bethnal Green I couldn’t believe it, that you no longer were there. I tried to grasp the last moment I remember you truly being you, being Lux. In the summer we had so much fun- that really hot day when we went to John’s and sat on a trampoline with a bunny and ate veggie burgers and laughed. You were always such a lovely, kind person every time...
I want you to know...
… that CM Punk won the ‘Pipe-bomb of the year’ award at the Slammy’s and his tribute to John Laurinaitis was hilarious. People reading this might think that’s silly but I know we would have watched it and laughed so much. I love that you got me watching wrestling and it was another thing we could share together. I’m going to your room tomorrow, I’m scared...
Lux, I want you to know...
… that we kept our date at the Tate Modern; you, me and a flask of whisky. The tide was out, so we went down to the rocks by the Thames and had a kip (is that right? a kip?) while St Paul’s chimed and the rain came down-one for me, one for my homies.
The exhibition was somebody called Taryn Simon. I liked it, but I don’t think you did (too many footnotes) so we cut it short and...
I spent about forty minutes sitting outside your door in Tooting today. I had to know for sure. I was so sure this was all just an elaborate ploy to get some more sewing time in. I would have spent longer if it wasn’t so damn cold but I guessed no-one was coming back, particularly not who I wanted to see. Your favourite neighbour with no more girls let me know, he has such a way with words....
Very early on, before we lived together, she was in my room. I went downstairs to get a drink, and when I came back up she’d vanished. I knew she wasn’t downstairs because there was no way to sneak past me down there. She wasn’t behind the door or under the bed when I checked. I opened my wardrobe and she was sitting in the bottom, wearing an old penguin hat I had and grinning....
After paying rent and bills and things I couldn’t afford presents this year. I’d been making her something but couldn’t buy gifts for my family or anyone. She gave me money on Friday morning and told me to go out and get presents for my family. She made christmas happen, and I never got the chance to show her what I got them with her help, or to properly thank her. She was the...
Lucy's Blog →
She hadn’t updated it since the start of the year, but it shows how amazingly talented she was. She always had a way with words, and her short stories show her wonderfully creative mind. She picked up sewing relatively recently and was brilliant.
Death is nothing at all, I have only slipped into the next room I am I and you are you Whatever we were to each other, that we are still. Call me by my old familiar name, Speak to me in the easy way which you always used Put no difference in your tone, Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes we enjoyed together. Play, smile, think of me,...
I can’t understand why you did what you did, but I hope that you are happier now. I had so much fun with you. Christmas won’t be the same, it seems that every year there is one fewer person at the table.
A lot of people have been coming to the house, everyone loved you so much. I found the cookie cutters you bought for me, thank you.
Tory is here at the moment to keep mum company,...