'Fear no more the heat o' the sun, Nor the furious winter's rages; Thou thy worldly task hast done, Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages; Golden lads and girls all must, As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.' Shakespeare is apt for the current heatwave but I remember you last on a freezing January night in Bristol over three years ago; relaxed but sparky, charming and perceptive as ever, slightly feral but engaging, on for an evening of beers and ciders in different pubs, and a mackerel pizza in the place on the waterfront where very local ciders are stacked up the walls in 5 gallon plastic bladders inside cardboard boxes. You fitted in very well with the Bristolian vibe and were starting to spread your artistic wings in different photographic and musical directions. The Haystack has lost a young, strong and creative bale, and we mourn for you, Sasha. Peter