About ‘End of Copy – Words of Light’
Journalists sign off their copy with “-30-” and “###”—symbols that mark endings yet hint at beginnings, the moment light enters darkness. Here, these forms are extruded into elegant vertical aluminium columns, creating a contemplative space.
Their arrangement follows a Fibonacci spiral—an ancient pattern found in sunflowers, shells, and distant galaxies—echoing a quiet geometry of growth and order. In this way, the memorial is grounded in the landscape it inhabits, set among wildflowers and trees, as though it has always belonged there.
The memorial is not only to be seen, but entered. Visitors sit and reflect between a lettered bench and the luminous rays above, within a structure that feels diaphanous, almost immaterial. Figures are glimpsed rather than fully seen—silhouettes drifting behind a veil of metal and light—while the surrounding landscape is revealed in shifting reflections across aluminium and stainless steel. The memorial becomes a threshold: between inside and outside, presence and absence, memory and becoming. Light moves through it. Air moves through it.
Words—so often fleeting—are given weight and presence. They become structure, forming pathways that carry meaning across time, from past to present and into the future. Over time, the aluminium will soften and oxidise, taking on the imprint of weather and years, its surface changing as memory does. Yet at the tips, polished stainless steel and glass will catch and hold the light—bright, constant, enduring. Holding both loss and hope, the work offers refuge and honours the enduring role of journalism: to seek truth, to bear witness, and to hold power to account.