Flamingos

I also love this photo of the designer Barbara Hulanicki and flamingos on Kensington High Street in 1973. It was taken by photographer Desmond O'Neill who died in 2003.

Helmut Newton

Helmut Newton led the ultimate glamorous life. He lived in the Chateau Marmont in the winter months, to keep the cold and gloom at bay, befriending Billy Wilder, Dennis Hopper and Robert Evans. He was married to fellow photographer Alice Springs, quirkily named after a pin was placed in a map.

Newton arrived in Paris in a white Porsche, was hired immediately by French Vogue, commissioned by Playboy, had a heart attack at 50, and lived in Monte Carlo. Then in a final fling - or what Karl Lagerfeld poetically described as "his last picture, taken by himself", he crashed his Cadillac on Sunset Boulevard aged 83, on January 23 2004.

• After taking a model onto the streets during an early assignment at British Vogue, he was sternly told by the editor that "ladies, Helmut, do not lean against lampposts"

• All Newton's exhibitions were curated by his devoted wife; all books edited by her, including: White Women (1976), Sleepless Nights (1978), Big Nudes (1978), World Without Men (1984) and the massive Sumo (1999), which came out at 31 inches, 26 kilos, £625, and with its own coffee table (Brad Pitt bought several copies)

• Celebrating 51 years of marriage in 1999, their joint exhibition and book, Us And Them, included Alice's photo of Newton wearing nothing but black stockings and his strangely tender portrait of her lying on a hospital bed, following a major operation, wearing a catheter and a huge metal zip running up her stomach.

- as found on www.vogue.co.uk

You can't hear me!

I am replying, but you can't hear me. Just thought you should know.

Yours, etc.

K

We should split the Klondike bar...

Sorry.

I didn't know you were online. I'm so sorry I missed you. Text me next time okay? On my account if that's easier.

Yours, etc.

K

Gulliver!

This is another Arthur Rackham. Of Gulliver, obviously. I am of course working under the assumption that you've read every book under the sun, and the moon too, in all her phases. It's an assumption that has worked well for me.

I miss you, I hope somewhere you're warm and sleeping.

Yours, etc.

K

What do you think of this poem?

She walks in Beauty

SHE walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that 's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellow'd to that tender light 5
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impair'd the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face; 10
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow, 15
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!

- Lord Byron