I’m very glad that I
randomly stumbled on the course. I hope that my lack of prior commitment and
lack of choosing to be there didn’t detract from course. I was also perhaps a
bit distracted (and didn’t have time to do my homework) due to the fact or strong
likelihood that the business that I co-founded could be sold imminently.
Random early travels
When I was 18, I
wandered around Greece with a friend, we had no plan but we had a method, we
were social, but we asked other travellers where they we going and then we
crossed those places off the list….
We went to many out of
the way and sometime wonderful places, at times we slept on pine needles or
concrete, and once on marble, and that morning woke at dawn in the Tholos at
the Oracle of Delphi.
A few days later, we
were on our way to the remote island of Ikaria, sometimes called “the island
where people forget to die” (I didn’t know that then). The ferry was struck by
a Meltemi storm and over a game of poker and a bottle of Captain Morgan’s, we
were persuaded by a lively crowd of Samiots not to go to Ikaria, (because
nothing happens there), and to come to Samos to a Panagyria party.
Over the next few
years all my holidays were spend blundering around Southern Italy, Sicily and
Greece. Even when I was looking
for my place to base myself when attempting to write a novel, I jumped on a random
bus and got off at the end of the route. I walked through the groves of ancient olive trees to a tiny,
isolated fishing village. I had no idea where I was, (I learned later it was Limenas
Gerakas – Alexandria will know that I was SERIOUSLY lost). Anyway, I didn’t
stay here but walked on down the coastal track.
Strangely, I later
became a Travel Organiser. It was a job with many paradoxes. The aim was to
give rich experience, but without randomness. However, many of the best
connections had been made originally by accident. Rapidly, I learned that when
doing ‘set up tours’ it was important not to be over-planned or to have too
much of a fixed idea of what I was looking for.
Favourite object
Alexandra had asked
everyone to bring along their favourite object. Well obviously I hadn’t. I’ve got quite a few possessions, too
many really, and whilst some are dear to me, there are few that I couldn’t live
without. Collectively, books are the things I couldn’t survive without. The sudden demand “choose one” threw me
back to when in my late 20s, having no ties, and being solvent enough to
survive for a year, I dumped everything to travel and write. I could carry only
a few books: a dictionary; a rhyming dictionary; a tract by the psychologist
Laing and a couple of novels. One of these was “The maze maker” by Michael
Ayrton, the sculptor. A book about
the artist in myth, a prototype creator and creates mazes rather than gets lost
in them in order to try to understand life. To some extent this book was my
muse. So, thinking back to the time I had to choose only a couple of books, I
chose this.
Once it started
talking, wow, it wouldn’t shut up…
(I wish I had known this technique years ago!)
It took me back to the
half ruined house in the mountains south of Monemvasia, that I lived in for 6
months, a fair few years ago now.
The strange story that
the book told about George was indeed true, or whatever we mean by true.
Truth? I was very taken
by the black & white photograph of the plaster bust of the Roman copy of the Greek
original, that was probably a bronze lost wax casting of a sculpture that wasn’t
Patroclus, but Ulysses, who was actually Odysseus, except it wasn’t Odysseus,
but a model whom the unknown artist thought might have looked like the man who
had lived 500 years earlier who is described differently in 2 books written a
couple of hundred years later by the poet ‘Homer’, who may have been two or more
people. The photographer loved to capture the way light, in different
conditions, fell on the bust. this changed the bust or our perception of it.
Initial scribble
I had 2 pencils (an HB and a 4B) in my hand, and because I couldn't decide which to use, I used both. Yup it wasn't easy and I set about drawing what was in font of me. I mossed the River Thames. It was good to find the tree of life on my coffee cup. I didn't notice until after I'd drawn it.
This was a great ice breaker. James had also done what was in front of him. He too had missed the Thames! However he had concentrated on the windows and the proportions and perspective nicely under control.
Play creation
Inspired perhaps by Nadeen's cubist cube, that could reconstruct forever, I too played with the match sticks and enjoyed it.
I became a maze maker. My maze was not
entirely satisfactory. It was easy to get to the middle. I had left out the Minotaur too. Originally I did this because I didn’t
see that it needed to be there in the centre of the maze. A thought came to me that I might draw it separately and it would be one of Ayrton’s
conflicted Minotaurs, rather than the terrifying child-eating creature of the
myth. I did put the traditional red string
in, showing the way to the centre (and back out, as done originally, for the Minotaur
slayer). However, no sooner had I stuck the red string down than I regretted
it. Later I came to think that the string should have been green or yellow, just a guide to get to the centre of the maze, no more.
Posts about the Ted Talk, Didymi
from Dimi, the Maze Maker’s narrative and ‘George’ to follow soon.
