Someone close to me died and I found myself with the choice whether or not to know the name of person who caused their death. Justice had run its course and they were punished but still, knowing the name could only lead to that instinctive primal urge for revenge and that in itself could only lead to self-destruction and is that not also a form of vanity and self-serving? And yet is it not an act of cowardice and weakness not to know, a betrayal of they who has been lost? This tapestry was an attempt to balance this decision which was ultimately not to know, and in its weaving was an act of contrition and repentance.

Four figures tell this story, the first, on the left, receives the news of the death brought to her in the night by the candle bearers. As flowers, her youth, her dreams, her potential is drained from  her as she gives way to mourning. In her hand she holds the name. The second figure encourages revenge, the place where her loved one died in ruins and flames but she knows she will only end in a trap of her own making. The third figure destroys the name, and seeks forgiveness in the cutting of her hair. But she knows, as time passes and something of her life returns, the name is still there somewhere. The fourth figure represents they who has been lost. She and the third figure share the common roots of the flowers, but her branch has been cut short as she holds a plucked off piece, but for the other figure life continues in its own way.

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