M was a friend of mine. He was also a friend to many and a colourful character who lived and worked in Portobello Market. M loved antiques and curiosities which he would often find in skips. He'd up cycle and resell them in the market on Sundays. He once found a Biedermeier desk which had been turfed into a skip outside a grand old house. He talked to me about how he really wanted to learn the art of Taxidermy and stuff some of the dead cats he would find in the West London streets. Life got in the way of M and his dreams and expectations. I think the mundanity of the everyday eluded him, the 'norm' was a stranger, he sought the unusual and rejected the standard. For this reason he would struggle with staying on the road to recovery from addiction. I was told that M died abroad whilst trying a radical treatment for withdrawal. Our mutual friend asked me to photograph his flat as he left it; I saw within those four walls the remnants of a man's character, an insight into his taste and the traces of M's last torment.