Loyal blog-readers probably know about my obsessive and slightly morbid fascination with graveyards—the older and more decrepit, the better. I’m always exploring spooky old cemeteries in the area, reading the epitaphs and memorizing the haunting angels’ faces and marveling at how often a husband and wife will die within weeks of one another. In an ironic way, graveyards are actually quite comforting places, and they’re populated by so many tales. Every one of those stones represents a person’s whole life—there’s really no other place on earth that ties up the loose ends of so many stories, and sparks memories of a thousand faces in a thousand different minds. The more wild and derelict the cemetery, the quicker my imagination starts exploring the lives, and creating impossible worlds for them to inhabit.
However, I don’t know if I’ve ever come across so many lovely old graveyards as these in London:
(This is perhaps the most disturbing one, no?)
As Death would say,
(P.S. The Audioscrobbler redesign looks fantastic! The list of my top-40 artists is a pretty good representation of my music tastes, as opposed to the pretty skewed weekly chart.)