Wednesday, 16 March 2011

Further on down the Path

Spanning the forty something years of my human experience, a myriad of troublesome circumstances have befallen my life, thrust upon me without permission yet undeniably needing my attention. Earliest recollections are of a father, whose subtle combination of aggression and psychology in his over-disciplinarian ways was to instill in me an almost perpetual fear, naively mistaken for paternal respect.

By the age of seven a spark had ignited the creative kindling. I had always loved to draw, create and recount stories, but now I became lured by music, in particular the sound of the violin. The following Christmas Santa 'came up with the goods' and from then on there was no turning back. I began free lessons at school, despite the mockery and bullying,not the kind of accompaniment my melodies required, however home rehearsal became ever more difficult as my father began to dictate the practice regime setting time constraints and goals. Nevertheless I persisted though the enjoyment slowly dwindled.

On reaching double figures my father had grown increasingly more detached from the family, seeming only to maintain a self-seeking attitude to his paternal responsibilities. From under the bed clothes late at night, the habitually raised, more often argumentative voices created a cocktail of fear and unanswered questions. The threadbare relationship and subsequent separation of my parents whilst I was at such an impressionable age and the resulting impact on my mother's health pushed me into the role of 'man of the house' despite the accompanying discomfort it bore. Adult roles weighed heavily on boyish shoulders. Adolescence 'never was' and yet deep rooted was the music, the art, the poetry... I had unknowingly tasted from the cauldron of Awen, but soon was to begin the struggle with an ever transfiguring self.



I began my higher studies, though rapidly changing, often extreme moods became a regular feature of life. With little understanding and support I began to adopt a gamut of different personae, concealing my bouts of depression and mania 'neath a collection of "Bowiesque social masks", continually having to reinvent myself in order to stay ahead of the dis-ease.

The charade finally ground me down to mental and physical collapse.

I'm working hard now to initiate a true metamorphosis, to find the real me, to follow the right path, find Truth and self belief... I guess re-birthing, a renaissance man in by it's humblest definition.

I am no Taliesin, yet I can now relate infinitely better to the legend that is...


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