Stardust Memories

Dear Ben
As you know I am interested in a person’s relationship to their objects and it’s the subject of my PhD. I want to make a book and I wondered if it would be possible for you to make a small hair cutting and put it under Sellotape and stick to a piece of paper (any kind) and to write a few words about an object-any: imaginary, one you would like, one you had or have lost, a childhood one, one you have now, one someone else you know has/had and you envied/hated-anything at all. Enclosed is a description by Roger Cardinal of his. Yours doesn’t have to be very long at all one sentence or even just the name of the object is absolutely fine and a few words fine too. It will be anonymous. I would very much like it to be handwritten.

So to recap…

1. A cutting of hair stuck with Sellotape onto a piece of paper.
2. A handwritten bit of writing/notes whatever you want no more than an A4 and can be considerably less

Thank you very much indeed
I really appreciate it
Annabel xx

The Studio
23 The Street
Melton
Woodbridge
Suffolk IP12 1PL

07545 898 948

www.annabeldover.com

“I’m asking you to marry me, you little fool.”

George Fortescue Maximilian ‘Maxim’ de Winter

in Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier

It’s interesting that the hero of the book has four names and 12 syllables and the heroine has no name.

The monogrammed ‘R’s’ we see on the napkin we assume are for Rebecca.

The ghost has one name that is everywhere. It is three syllables and ends in the letter ‘a’. this scientists believe makes a woman more popular and more likely to marry: Amanda, Jessica, Belinda, Angela,Melissa,Odetta, Helena, Teresa,Marissa, Jennifer etc.

Did Makita think about this before they branded their tools I wonder.

“Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again. It seemed to me I stood by the iron gate leading to the drive and for a while I could not enter, for the way was barred to me”.

“We were not far from the house now, I saw the drive broaden to the sweep I had expected, and with the blood-red wall still flanking on either side, we turned the last corner, and so came to Manderley. Yes, there it was, the Manderley I had expected, the Manderley of my picture post-card long ago. A thing of grace and beauty, exquisite and faultless, lovelier even than I had ever dreamed, built in its hollow of smooth grassland and mossy lawns, the terraces sloping to the gardens, and the gardens to the sea.

As we drove up to the wide stone steps and stopped before the open door, I saw through one of the mullioned windows that the hall was full of people.”

Rebecca Daphne du Maurier

“Laying on the bed resting, Janis said she could feel the ‘busy’ energy in the house from over the centuries, maids and servants walking about – that type of thing

It wasnt till the next morning that Janis let me know of her ‘experiences’…She had experienced an intense burning sensation in one of her arms – (the one she had out of the covers) – it lasted a good few minutes, afterwards it was fine again .”

Arreton Manor Haunted Britain.

I don’t know of any such thing, sorry.

On 28 Aug 2009, at 08:50, annabel dover wrote:

> Dear Sir/Madam,
> I am currently engaged in a PhD the subject of which is emotional attachment to objects. When I was eight years old I visited Arreton Manor and one object in particular had a profound affect on me: a piece of mourning jewellery housing the hair of a beloved daughter who had died of a chill caught early in the morning on a bowling green. Did I imagine this or do you really have such an artefact?
> All the very best
> Annabel Dover
>

I watched Grizzly man last night and after hearing Werner say he thinks nature is made of “chaos, hostility and murder. I ussually like to watch ‘Otters holding hands’ on youtube but this morning my beloved reminded me that terry nutkins lost his fingers to otters.

Here are some other facts and quotes that interest me about Werner Herzog:

He once went on foot to Paris from Munich to see a dying friend.

“Were I to become impoverished, it wouldn’t surprise or frighten me. I’ve never cared about possessions.”

Herzog means duke in German, “like Duke Ellington. My nom de guerre.”

“The lack of a father figure, says Herzog with a hearty laugh, was, in fact, a blessing. “I thank God on my knees that there was no commander around telling us what to do.” Fatherlessness also has symbolic resonance for an artist born at the end of the war, a child of a “lost generation”, as Herzog puts it. “My big brother and I were men at 13,” he says, “we could have raised families.

“Well, I recently saw a film celebrating the life of Katharine Hepburn, whom I actually like as an actress. It was some kind of homage to her but unfortunately it turns out that she has these vanilla ice-cream emotions. At the end she is sitting on a rock by the ocean and someone off-camera asks her, ‘Ms Hepburn, what would you like to pass on to the young generation?’ She swallows, tears are welling, she takes a lot of time as if she were thinking very deeply about it all, then she looks straight into the camera and says, ‘Listen to the Song of Life.’ And the film ends.

I was cringing it hurt so much. I still smart just thinking about it. And hearing this was such a blow that I even wrote it into the Minnesota Declaration, Article Ten, which I repeat here and now for you, Paul. I look you right in the eye and say, ‘Don’t you ever listen to the Song of Life.'”