China Hamilton
My Thursday evening friend
I had known China from the late 1990s, but when I moved to Lowestoft, where China also then lived we fell into the habit of meeting up every Thursday evening from (I guess) 2005 to 2013 when I moved to Northern Ireland.
At first we would go out for an Indian meal, taking our time and lingering over coffee but when the smoking ban came in we realised we were bolting our food to get back to my flat and have a smoke, so from then we used to alternate between China’s lovely place and the flat in my hotel.
I loved the “bedroom plus” that was China’s living place. The twin leather settees and Persian rug were perfect for the rich warm ambience of the room; I can (and sometimes do) just close my eyes and remember it.
But of course, when I do I remember so well the man himself. China is a man it truly is not possible to adequately sum up easily. He had so many interests, from traction engines to guns to playing “the bones” (at which he was an acknowledged Master) to watches and motor cycles to name but a few and with China it was not only the range of his interests but also the depth of his knowledge of them and always his passion for any subject that interested him.
Our original mutual and continued interest was in the world of BDSM but of course we came from a shared time (China was a year older than me) and we had similar views on life.
I am sure though that if China self defined himself it would be as an artist and a photographer. He was truly a Master of his art; I have watched him transform a photo in front of me with shade and light, his touch deft and unerring. He was generous enough to give me some of his black and white studies which are the unmistakeable covers of the books of Peter Colby. With China’s art it is always and unmistakably “his”. You hardly need the famous “chop” to identify them.
Although I hardly saw China after I moved over the Irish Sea I used to correspond most weeks, either by emails or phone. It has and will seem a loss to me not to be able to do so now. My only consolation is that China illuminated my life for so many Thursday nights.
My Thursday evening friend
I had known China from the late 1990s, but when I moved to Lowestoft, where China also then lived we fell into the habit of meeting up every Thursday evening from (I guess) 2005 to 2013 when I moved to Northern Ireland.
At first we would go out for an Indian meal, taking our time and lingering over coffee but when the smoking ban came in we realised we were bolting our food to get back to my flat and have a smoke, so from then we used to alternate between China’s lovely place and the flat in my hotel.
I loved the “bedroom plus” that was China’s living place. The twin leather settees and Persian rug were perfect for the rich warm ambience of the room; I can (and sometimes do) just close my eyes and remember it.
But of course, when I do I remember so well the man himself. China is a man it truly is not possible to adequately sum up easily. He had so many interests, from traction engines to guns to playing “the bones” (at which he was an acknowledged Master) to watches and motor cycles to name but a few and with China it was not only the range of his interests but also the depth of his knowledge of them and always his passion for any subject that interested him.
Our original mutual and continued interest was in the world of BDSM but of course we came from a shared time (China was a year older than me) and we had similar views on life.
I am sure though that if China self defined himself it would be as an artist and a photographer. He was truly a Master of his art; I have watched him transform a photo in front of me with shade and light, his touch deft and unerring. He was generous enough to give me some of his black and white studies which are the unmistakeable covers of the books of Peter Colby. With China’s art it is always and unmistakably “his”. You hardly need the famous “chop” to identify them.
Although I hardly saw China after I moved over the Irish Sea I used to correspond most weeks, either by emails or phone. It has and will seem a loss to me not to be able to do so now. My only consolation is that China illuminated my life for so many Thursday nights.