What is the last thing you learned?
In the quiet, shadowy recesses of my mind, where thoughts weave through the darkness like pale, silken threads, I recently stumbled upon a fascinating, albeit macabre, revelation: the art of memento mori photography.
This haunting practice, born from the depths of the Victorian era, involves capturing the last earthly visages of the deceased, often posed as if merely slumbering. A chilling reflection on mortality, it serves as a stark reminder of the thin, gossamer veil that separates the living from the eternal embrace of death.
Through the lens, these photographers crafted a poignant testament to those who have passed into the shadow, preserving their memory in a frozen tableau of serene finality. It’s a grim reminder of our own impermanence, a whisper from the past that echoes in the silent chambers of my gothic soul.
A Fool's Handbook 