​Dearest Oona,

 

1,000 thanks for your letter, and apologies for not replying sooner. I’ve committed myself, only yesterday too, to devoting myself to my Maman this weekend, and I’m such a neglectful and intermittent daughter that I can’t put it off now. 

 

You sweetly ask how I'm doing. Well, since you ask: messily... 'The hair, the bed, the words, the heart. Life.' Everything just seems a tad all over the place at the moment. I have however found joy in the creation of a publication called Anthophile. It is a small, jewel-box of a publication filled with art, fiction and novelty. An anthophile is a person who loves flowers but the publication has become more of an umbrella for the natural world, than a bloom-filled odyssey. It's an excuse to meet some wonderful established artists and writers and to champion less well-known talents of which there are so many. 

 

What sad news about David. I am sorry to hear that. I cannot say I am surprised. A few months ago I saw him on the Kings Road, charming and shoeless, carrying a huge bit of taxidermy. We had the most enjoyable chat about carnivorous marsupials and he promised he'd write something on the subject for 'my little publication.' If only he had - he was an exceptional writer. I shall miss him. 

 

Do get the word out about Anthophile. If you want to support, please buy a copy and tell your friends to do so too. 

 

Take care, 

Emma x

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