I began life as a baby in Brecon, Powys. I arrived at the foot of the majestic mid Wales mountains in the War Memorial hospital.
It wasn’t long before I was whisked away to Fishguard, in Pembrokshire, where my Dad skippered the ship to Ireland.
Having learned to walk, talk, ride a bike, tie my shoes laces, kick a football, paint a picture, play Manic Miner, etc, on the beautiful coastline out west, I found myself back in Brecon at a boarding school called, Christ College. I was eleven.
It was tough at the start but as I matured into a late teenager it became increasingly good fun, as one of my teachers commented at a parents’ evening, “He treats this place like a bloody holiday camp, with himself as cheif Redcoat!” I can’t deny it. I was far more interested in drama, sport, music, social occasions, etc, than I was passing exams. But I managed to get myself to Kingston (“You’ll always be a poly”) University to study history …in and amongst my hobbies and social pursuits, naturally.
I mustn’t forget that I spent a GAP year in the Red Centre of Australia too, at a European-style boarding school. I had an inkling that there were social problems in the world when the indigenous people would arrive in Alice Springs once a fortnight, with a ‘ute’ (open-topped truck) brimming with children, and get smashed on grog’ for the night, resulting in alcohol casualties and confused kids strewn around the town the following morning. But who am I to pass judgement: No one told me that climbing Uluru was bad enough (which used to be called Ayres Rock – probably Australia’s most sacred site and one of the Earth’s global chakras), let alone getting myself photographed pulling a ‘moonie’ at the summit.
Hey ho, you live and learn.
I became crippled by a nasty rugby injury in my twenties, and, having lost my main outlet for a social life, sport, decided to travel to Madrid, Spain, as an English teacher.
It was about this time that I began experimenting with a selection of illegal herbs and psychotropic substances, which – in a number of guises – assisted in my understanding of ‘other’ universal Realms available to us in this Earthly incarnation. I met a homeless Scouser with some interesting insights in this area, soon after qualifying as a school teacher from Bath University, and took him on an extended holiday to the west coast of the USA …mainly to see what would happen. Plenty did.
After a stint as a supply teacher in the some lowly and desolate regions of the Welsh valleys I decided that it was a good time, in my mid-thirties, to ‘settle down’. This was a grave mistake, as, although superficially, I secured a prestigious teaching position in a Catholic boarding school on my highest paid salary to date; I complacently arrived in an loveless marriage.
On paper it all looked good. We welcomed three wonderful sons into the world while initiating two very successful businesses; but behind the scenes – with that laser-accurate 20/20 hindsight – the relationship was doomed from the start.
My internal plan was to plod on until the boys were old enough to understand that we needed a reassessment of our family dynamic – at around the year 2027. But I was cruelly ousted before my youngest son had reached his first birthday.
And here I am. November 2015, living in my parents’ attic with a camera bag and a computer. Starting from scratch. It’s been an enlightening year – and life goes on…
And, as I’ve always felt that I’ve had an original outlook on life; a lyrical bent; and an engaging tone of voice; I’ve decided to start this blog.