Why The Long Silence?
I haven’t written a blog for over a year and a half. Apart from laziness, the belief that nobody cares about what I think and that it serves no real purpose, I think I have a good excuse.
I had got fed up with the life I was leading, working to pay a mortgage on a three bedroom family home that I occupied on my own. I decided to sell my house and most of my belongings and go off somewhere and lead the life of a bum for a while. I had worked hard for many years, sometimes without holidays. I decided to close my race engine tuning business as it was no longer giving me pleasure. In work it is important to do something you enjoy as you spend quite a lot of your time doing it.
It had always been my plan to return to my original profession as a photographer. In early 2014 the time seemed right so I put the house on the market.
Selling my house was about the best thing I could do. It had served its purpose and it was now time to move on. Even before it was sold I took off and left the house in the hands of the estate agents. When it eventually sold I was a guest of some good friends in Rome. It gave me great satisfaction to check my bank account the day of the sale and to see that a (what seemed to me) large amount of money had been deposited in it. After paying off the mortgage there was enough to wander the planet for a few years whilst I planned the photographic exhibitions that I had been talking about for years.
I had already traveled to Portugal and Spain and was the next stop. Some friends thought this was a great idea, others thought I was being irresponsible. I personally thought that at my age it was irresponsible to be “responsible”, whatever that means. I guess responsible in some people’s mind is doing the right thing, having a job, going to work, earning money, buying stuff and going on two weeks holiday to Benidorm to unwind from the stress of work.
I decided that I was no longer going to have stress in my life as I don’t have any intention of keeling over of a heart attack any time soon.
After about a year I bought a two bedroom flat a couple of miles from my old house. I turned one of the rooms into a darkroom so I could print my older work. It is my pied a terre where I keep the few belongings of any importance. Basically prints, negatives and slides, these are the only irreplaceable things I own. Everything else is replaceable.
It’s probably not a coincidence that when I started my career as photographer I lived in a two bedroom first floor flat in Wimbledon where one room was a darkroom. To me it feels like history repeating itself and a fresh start in life. I feel like I’m twenty again, although a look in the mirror reveals that this is clearly not the case.
I started writing this a month ago in Rome, since then I have been to see friends in Salobrena, Spain and am currently sitting in a departure lounge in Vienna where I have just spent a great week seeing old friends and making new ones. I’ll be home in Woodbridge for a couple of weeks before my next trip, UK this time for two weeks.
How can I complain? It’s not a bad life really.