A few years ago I developed an interest in taking pictures of the moon. It was the year of Supermoons – it was also year that my father passed away. It’s just another trigger to my interminable sadness. I remember the end of that summer/early autumn, out in front of my flat with my camera, lens and tripod. Focusing on this big ball of reflected light in the sky, patting myself on the back for my photographic efforts, but at the back of mind I new something terrible was happening in our lives. I can never see a full moon again and escape the feelings of awe mixed with horror. It’s getting better but it will always be a reminder.