A few hours later, wafting into the room with the supercilious air of confidence peculiar to those who know they are to speak on a subject upon which they are unlikely to be challenged came Mavis Clay, adorned in a flowing white dress that seemed to be more ruffles than stitching and sat herself like Christ in Da Vinci’s painting of the Last Supper in the center of the long table, whilst historians, experts, and the duke himself flanked her like apostles, on either side. 

The shot, which our director had approved, was intended to show off the extent of the quilt, which I would estimate extended for around 12 feet long by around four-and-a-half feet wide. The participants were to sit on one side of the table facing the camera so that each was seated before one portion of the quilt as if it were a tablecloth laid for a particularly gruesome meal.

To give you an idea, when stretched across the table, the quilt spilled over either side, each of the small squares which varied in size but averaged around 10 centimeters, representing another human being who had given up a portion of themselves to aid the composition of this strange tapestry.

Having just completed a long tracking shot covering the extent of the quilt, I panned the camera up to Mavis, sitting with her arms outstretched over the table, eyes closed as she "attempted to connect" with some of the poor soul whose flesh had been used to make up the piece.