Q Day 7 - Two Writers

I've been in West Mersea for a week, hidden in my garret opposite the Fire Station (1935) which, coincidently, is also Mersea Island Scouts location. And, I have just realised, it's easier to type on this small Samsung phone if I wear my glasses. A distinct consequence of ageing.

Orson Wells once said…

"We're born alone, we live alone, we die alone. Only through our love and friendship can we create the illusion for the moment that we're not alone."

Over half a century ago (55 years to be exact), at Endsleigh Annex of Colchester Institute, I met a mild mannered young gentleman, one who wore old fashioned glasses. 

Through the turmoil of life, with its knocks and bruises, ups and downs we have somehow preserved a friendship. We haven't lived in each other's pockets, in fact years slip past with scant contact, but friendship exists, and maybe because of this.

In 'Shouting in a Bucket Blues' Kevin Ayers (ex Soft Machine) sings….

"Lovers come and lovers go but friends are hard to find.."

And it's true. With the exit of my last love, here I am in Blighty and back in contact with my friend of those many years.

In many respects J and I had chased each other through Sein und Zeit (Being and Time), from pseudo Beatnik days, to hippy days and the wearing of military jackets (Sgt Pepper style). 

Individually we left college, uninformed and scarcely educated, to follow various pipers, his to Mexico mine to a 'commune in Yorkshire. 

When the fires of youth dampened slightly I went to Art School, he to nursing school. I studied Philosophy, he studied Scottish Literature. I gained my two Masters in Art related subjects, he gained his Doctorates in Literature and Language. It wasn't a race. Most of the time we were quite unaware each of what the other was doing. 

Nevertheless we remained friends and lived life on parallel tracks, meeting occasionally between his sojourns in Poland, Malaysia and Japan, and mine in India, Malaysia and Cambodia, to compare notes . As well as being a writer he became an academic, I a graphic designer and a writer. We are similar but different.

As Pink Floyd sang…

"We're just two lost souls

Swimming in a fish bowl

Year after year."

We, independently, were attracted to Asia. He because his father was killed in the Malayan 'Emergency' (1951), me because my father survived India (1930s), but left his heart there. It has turned full circle as I return from Cambodia to West Mersea, as we, temporarily at least, live across the river Colne from each other as he longer lives in Japan.