"She is my jewel, she is my death jewel, beauteous.
And when she dies, she will die a complete death,
like a true animal lying on the prairie,
an instrument tuned by the wind, snow, and sun,
played on by the hooves of the oldest galloping stars."
Janet Frame, Daughter Buffalo, 1971
This page is an archive of memorial arts: legacies, artifacts, and stories that remain. This page is memorial to the dead who have taught me about life and death and who continue to inspire my work. Death Jewels, like stars in the sky, are here and also not here.