Pamela Hunter RIP

It was Pamela Hunter's funeral today in Limavady. Half the town seemed to be there at the church, plus friends from London and Dublin. There were poets, artists and photographers, friends from festivals and record companies, disbelieving family members and old folk, shaking their heads.

She was 46 years old and she had come down with a brain aneurysm on holiday in Kerry last week. For the service, her partner John had written a poem about her that stressed her energy, her enthusiam and love for the arts plus her forgiving nature. These qualities had taken her to Dublin while punk rock was mutating into another new thing. She then established herself at Island Records in London where she commissioned photo sessions, album sleeves and videos. After some illness, she returned home where she reconnected with John, a childhood friend, and the script seemed to be essentially happy.

She worked hard on Imagine Belfast, fixed up international fashion shoots and lots of other projects. I was involved in a few exhibitions with her and she was a powerful force - strong on details and so demanding when it was rightly required. I think we had all assumed that there would many more occasions like this. Our hearts are sore when we realise that it can no longer happen.