What is love? ’tis not hereafter;
Present mirth hath present laughter;
What’s to come is still unsure:
In delay there lies no plenty;
Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty,
Youth’s a stuff will not endure.
William Shakespeare: Twelfth Night
A recently-made Anthotype of my mother as a young woman. The original photograph was taken by my father Brian Edwards. The emulsion was made of berries from an 18th century Mulberry tree at Painswick Rococo Garden. My mother’s name is Violet. The unexposed areas of the Anthotype have remained a bright, almost fluorescent, magenta pink: perfectly fitting for a 60s glamour girl!