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The People’s Pyramid.

Midsummer dawn burial.

A glimpse of the dedication my local crematorium workers showed during Covid. This technician volunteered to stay at the crem in a hammock. We, the death professionals, understood that if the crematoriums stopped working, we were in serious trouble.

My dad was good friends with John Le Mesurier. Old war buddies. He used to come and stay and they’d retreat to my dad’s study for the weekend and drink scotch.

A clay figurine of a shrouded corpse I made for ritual purpose. What elevates it to high necromantic potential, is the clay comes from a vein that threads through a grave. Clay to clay, bone to bone. Most likely to be used for moving on rituals, rather than dark cursing. But you never know..

Omens on the asphalt. A fire horse; in horse dung.

Cat occupying the strategic Hormuz Straits of our house, blocking the free passage of dog into the kitchen.

Each take a piece home.

I think just the cultural norm. It’s a shame. When my elderly dog was cremated, his old bones looked like precious jewels, build ups of blues and chemical yellows.

What cremated human remains look like before they are ground down, which sadly makes them look like cement dust. Different cultures deal with these bone fragments in other ways. Kotsuage is the ritual the Japanese have, in which the cremated bones are picked out with chopsticks and oiled.

An extract from “What Remains” Thank you for your attention in this matter!

Funeral for legendary Scouse photojournalist Paul Conroy, blown up in Homs, survived, thrived, going on to embed himself in Ukraine. Charismatic, eloquent, wild, handsome bastard and all round outlaw. Nice to hear anecdotes about acid, as much as artillery. Right side of history; wrong side of law.

Life er…finds a way.

What Remains? is a deeply moving book that will change the way readers think about life, death and the all-important end-of-life experience. As Ru memorably says: “Death has shown me unimaginable horror, the unbreakable core of love and courage that lies at the heart of what it means to be human.”

rucallender.com

Ancestral door jam.

It’s a steal!

Donate to Paul Conroy ❤️, organized by Tammy Perrens Our beloved Paul Conroy died suddenly on 28th February 2026. For almost 30 years Paul worked tireless… Tammy Perrens needs your support for Paul Conroy ❤️

I am doing the funeral for my friend and genuine hero Paul Conroy. Paul was one of the finest photojournalists in the world, definitely the coolest. He was targeted in Homs, Syria with his colleague Marie Colvin. Marie was killed, Paul badly wounded. He died here in Devon of natural causes.

Wow. So shut up then Marcus Aurelius with your stoicism, you are 1700 odd years too soon with self reflection.

Tell me about it..

It’s not!

Smoke from The Ancestor’s Fire at Sharpham Meadow blesses the coffin before the ceremony begins.

A glass of water for the ancestors.

Graves in the woods.

Graves in the woods.

Crossing the stream.

A review of the first article I ever had published. Interested in more of this? “What Remains? Life, death and the human art of undertaking.” Published by Chelsea Green.

Never too young to fill in your grandpa’s grave.

Last boat trip home for a lovely man. Beautiful woven hazel coffin and shroud, planted with spring flowers.

Fab album.

Uncle Bill: “Ah, Pook is here..”