In the dock of life's bay where the sun never sets and endless excursions of dialogue provoke and stimulate, thoughts are constantly updated, words continuously re-worked so reflection becomes a way of life. There's not a decade without change and entering a new one there are more opportunities than imagined by a ragged arsed bastard child living in two rooms in post war Edge Hill, Liverpool.
Praise be the Sixties and mobility, optimism, front row seats to a world changing cultural revolution, rolling the dice and risk be a lady tonight.
I've been a jeweller, warehouse manager, builder, investigating agent. Worked in prisons with lifers, taught adults literacy and Access to university courses, trained teachers, attended fascinating conferences, published by the European Union, lived in France and had a bloody wonderful life. Heartaches too: finding father's whereabouts to discover he'd died three months earlier. Had therapy with Dr. Art Janov in Paris that saved my life. Yes, Lennon's song, 'Mother', really says it all.
I love cycling, walking the hills in solitude on rain and wind lashed days. Summer naked on a French beach, strolling city streets at night, cafes, people gazing and chatting endlessly about all and sundry. Sometimes even politics and the curses of our age. I've lived in squats, council flats, listed Queen Anne houses, poor parts of the city, exclusive streets and castles, in tents and hostels, and still not settled. Mixed with poor, rich, the titled and the grand. Billionaires, paupers, politicians and factory workers.
