And so the story goes,
No one knows.
Borne from out dated promises,
and worn out kisses.
I’m a Staff Nurse. Capitals on the S and N. I’m proud to be a nurse. It was hard won. And is still really hard to win on a daily basis. I have loved my life so far. Every 10 years I would subconsciously change direction career wise. These changes would just creep up on me. Left school in the early 1970s and picked up a guitar (musician).
10 years go by touring, playing, dreaming and writing my own songs singing to audiences of 2 to thousands. Toured with my band supporting the Specials, Selector, Madness, and Dexy’s Midnight Runners. Lived above a Whole-food Shop, which had a Potter supply his hand thrown stoneware coffee/tea pots and domestic ware, who gave me a lump of clay, and ‘hey’ I started making Raku and St. Thomas White stoneware Celtic travellers and warriors. Now a ceramicist in earnest. Couldn’t call myself a Potter because I couldn’t throw anything on a wheel. Completely useless.
10 years go by. My nephew, born profoundly Deaf, means we all go to college to learn British Sign Language. I took this up as a career and supported Deaf students in higher and further education. I move to Wales in this role and…..
10 years go by. Sitting having a coffee with a lecturer in Aberystwyth, I bemoan my age of 50 and say I’d love to do something different. “Become a nurse,” he says. He takes me onto his Access to Nursing course, which allows me into the degree in Swansea (well the Carmarthen site of the three University’s sites), and there you go.
10 years have gone by. Now? I’m 61 and it seems my 10 year change has stopped. I have my Volkswagen T2 Crossover 1972 Bay Bus, “Wow, an old camper van!” as people call it, nearing renovation completion. I used it as my daily transportation (that’s Daily Ride Dude to the younger population) and it will once again become my ‘daily ride dude’ when I get it back home very shortly. I’m thinking I may use it as a central life changer. It’s name is Billie Bud and it will carry my interests including guitar, djembe drum, Pentax cameras (LX, 645, MX), lots of black and white film, my aromatherapy essential oils (120 plus) to create new synergy concoctions, decent pencils and art paper and my small collection of beautiful fountain pens (1930s to 1990s) to write thoughts and songs.
So the story goes, to where? No one knows.