When my son died in a fatal car crash at the age of almost 24, there was precious little left to remember him by… Months after his death, I found a discarded fag end in the gravel outside our house where he used to smoke …as I started looking I found more and more.. and I soon had a bagful -Each fag end seemed to symbolize a precious breath, a time spent pondering, a myriad of unknown thoughts unavailable to a mother. These discarded ends became a very precious collection that could so easily have become lost forever. Once I collected them (after several trawls through the gravel) I decided to mount them on a white canvas… and the feather image seemed so appropriate. Two filter tips have been covered in fine gold foil. The process of making this piece was extremely cathartic for me and I now have a large framed Feather which is my most precious possession; a reminder of my son.. who I loved and will miss forever.