Inspiration – per my Father

Where do you go to find inspiration? For me, my Father’s autobiography for one.  He has died – or passed on I would say, my having had some strange events which tell me he hasn’t really ‘gone.’  Before he died – as he wished, with a stroke and no return – he wrote out his memoirs.  Not only the way he wrote but the wide life of experience he had, continues to inspire me so I shall copy it here to show you what I mean – not all of it at this stage. Just the first few paragraphs but from time to time I’ll copy more down.

‘”Oh, look, there’s a ship. Wave to Daddy.” They tell me I was about two years old then, when I accepted this performance, sitting on my mother’s lap, gazing out the top-floor window over a gaggle of roofs glistening with the remnants of rain on the slates and tiles, towards a distant strip of water and misty farther shore. This must have been the first recalled stirrings of rational thought because I could not reconcile her invitation, repeated occasionally, with the idea of a mythical ‘Daddy’ who couldn’t possibly see me – or us him – from miles away (I must have developed some conception of distance) on a recurring moving small shape. I presume I accepted this peculiarity of the puzzling world my part-formed mind was ingesting. Age of enlightenment…? The EARTH goes round the SUN?!! NO way!!

Anyway, there was no-one else around me at that age that I can remember except two adults; one was my mother, the other a visiting aunt…certainly no Daddy. NOW  I know he went on a shop, to take up a job in Africa in 1925. So here’s some family history.’

My Dad’s family history encompasses years of change and turmoil through World War 2 and prior and after and his own changes from working as a professional architect in Fiji to founding a commune in Golden Bay. His perspectives and illuminations continue to remind me of my own life memories and influences that now affect my writing. I shall copy more to my blog as time permits. 

 

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