Oh, what an idea the lightbulb was, blinking in the dark, using power previously assigned to hair that stood straight up, which now is used to keep the dark away, and forever after will be used as a sign in the comics for a good idea, cling, blink, suddenly appearing in your head and also halfway into the air in the shape of a lit bulb. Here, someone is in the bulb, a sort of foetal after-thought coming into the world in the shape of a person, pressing to be born against the fragile sides of the imaginary glass lightbulb somewhat strangely hanging in the middle of the air above your air, not held up there by a wire or other support or power source. The man having this thought and other thoughts has his hair slicked back and a pair of shadows under his eyes. the power of his thoughts are being sucked out of his head and up through his hair by the power of mourning, which has brought him here to the medium's studio in mid-afternoon. It tires him.     Each Sunday, ghosts would appear at a seance in Tavistock Square, to be photographed with the living by Ella and her special camera.