One day at art school (ESTC) when I was about 18, one of my lecturers came up to me and said “are you Meg Fowell’s daughter?” Yes I said, “Well then I am your cousin Jim!” My first real cousin, I was thrilled, the only cousin I had met; he was my mum’s cousin. Jim and I over the years became friends. We shared the love of art and went to lots of gallery openings together. In fact whenever I visited Sydney when I was living overseas, I’d call Jim and he’s have something selected from his many invitations for “an opening I would surely enjoy”. He proudly introduced me to his friends and acquaintances; he made me feel very special. And so over lunch or a drink or dinner Jim would share his extraordinary stories, sometimes I wondered of their authenticity, but it was very entertaining never the less. Since Jim’s passing I’ve had the privilege to meet some of Jim’s friends from some of his stories and now met some new family. Through these brief meetings more of Jim’s life has been revealed to me, snapshots of a life well lived. My husband commented “Jim went through life without getting up a sweat”. I believe he lived for the moment and was quite irresponsible if viewed from a conventional mind set, but it is quite a unique way of living, sometimes could be quite depressing - I had many conversations about this with him. But I am not Jim, could never live like he did. I see him as the Flaneur - as someone who strolls though life, stopping to observe, to have a chat and to move on, an urban stroller through life. However Jim did not leave this world without effect, he left us richer in many ways. Thank you Jim, Julie

It's an opening night at whatever gallery OH! thank goodness Jim appears and warms up the cold atmosphere. A beautiful man. love seta