This is a tribute to Vivien, who helped me understand me, my circumstances and much of a long life through her extraordinary professionalism, intelligence and penetrating analysis. Thank you. Talking Cure.

Over Christmas 2004 we had, shall we say, a stormy night. Afterwards I wrote this, which sums up my commitment and my horror at confronting a future without Juani. Le pont en verre .How pointless all that struggle now seems since she decided that, once more, she has to try to make a life with Martin.

Two pieces written in South Africa. Agulhas (where Atlantic and Indian Oceans meet) is particularly poignant as it was a place I thought I'd never see.

Rain on dry ground

Agulhas

This sums it up... The shape of water . It was, and is, a beautiful thing, but gone into the water's wake now, back to the shape of water. Clearly for me it was " water itself, and all water" but for Juani -- just the shape of water.

A gift of my past...

Llanfihangel

Hard times, then, as the person who was my future struggled to make sense of her past.

Sands

Small walker in a storm alone

Do not go gentle into that good night

January night

Paths untaken

Absence

I guess I draw a line under this now, a life evaporated in duty, four lives blighted by one's indecision...