Rachel was born Rachel Evans on 20th October 1965 in Cardiff, moving to Brighton in 1976 where she did her growing up. The oldest of three girls, she took the role of big sister to Bryony and Siriol very seriously but somehow managed to fit in a tearaway teenage time too, accommodating her passionately independent creative spirit. Rachel went to art school in Eastbourne and Manchester, finishing up at the Royal College of Art in 1988, which is where I first met her. Her beautiful boyish good looks and quiet charisma attracted everyone. Her work at college was uncompromising as she was bravely prepared to take emotional risks with herself. She left a jar of honey in each person’s studio, the label of which she had personalized, declaring a secret sweet sticky love for the receiver. You knew she couldn’t be madly in love with everyone in the sculpture department but it still made you tingle. Rachel understood that everyone wants to be loved and this became the subject of her work. She made dresses out of icing sugar and sang Dolly Parton love songs whilst wearing them. Her graduation show was a hundred jam jars, disguised as a Women Institute’s best offering but the labels carried explicit selections from Nancy Friday’s ‘My Secret Garden’, the seminal 1973 collection of women’s hidden desires and sexual fantasies. This was the early nineties and London was undoubtedly the best place in the world to graduate in, with the YBA phenomena erupting all over the city. Rachel rode the wave well; she made the cover of Frieze for the second edition of the magazine. She was included in ‘Bad Girls’ at the Institute of Contemporary Arts in 1994, as well as her work being shown at the Lisson Gallery, Anthony D’Offay’s and Victoria Miro’s. She was travelling the world with exhibitions in Japan, New York and Paris. But Rachel had a problem, she didn’t like how showing her work made her feel, so while her peers marvelled at her trajectory she realised she just didn’t want to be an artist any more, so she stopped. This is a decision she reached with typical clarity, optimism, and authority, surprising those around her with her speed and ability to redefine herself. Rachel taught at the art school in Bath Spa University, brilliantly mentoring and inspiring the steady flow of young people. In 1998 Rachel met her husband, Al, at my Valentine birthday party, my only successful act of matchmaking. Their courting continued at their allotment in West London, and the harvest was good. They moved to Brighton with their two young children and Rachel retrained as a counsellor, specializing in children and young adults. This was a period where she carefully dismantled herself, gently putting herself back together with a calm wisdom that was always at her core. Rachel’s mother, Maureen, described her daughter as a beautiful and luminous swan, composed and moving through life with such pale grace, but always paddling hard under the surface. She had made a new career out of what she did best, listening and talking honestly with people; being able to see people for what they really are, and inspiring what they could be. In the summer of 2007 Rachel was diagnosed with Motor Neurone Disease. This was an illness that would aggressively take so much from her but never diminished her. Her spiritual journey accelerated with her illness, adding to her already evolved ability to identify what was really important in life. She never stopped thinking of others, supporting them, and preparing those she loved for the loss of her. Part of her legacy is that she has gently taught those around her how to live well and now how to die well. This radiant, funny, kind woman was always someone who knew what to do next and how to achieve it and she generously spent much of her life inspiring confidence in the people she knew to do the same. Rachel died at home on Tuesday 3 November 2009, aged 44. Her husband Al, sister Siriol and father Michael were with her. A week later her family and many friends came together at the Brighton Buddhist Centre to laugh, cry and mark her passing. It was a day spent entirely in her loving hands, typically open, beautiful and uncompromising. She was laid to rest in a woodland burial site at Clayton on the South Downs. She will be much missed. Rachel leaves her husband Al, son Hamish and daughter Robin. 19 November 09