In the spring of 1994, having lived and worked in the United States for 28 years, I began my journey back to the UK and the next big chapter of my life.

Christie was now at Hamilton College in upstate New York and Jarrod was 27. Having sold 'the studio' in West Chester, and given all my precious items to friends and family, most of my worldly possesions were now in two suit cases.
On my previous visit to Wales I had taken over eight large canvases, which were to be my emotional anchor.

My friend Carol Petersen, (who I had met in 1967 on the Staten Island Ferry,) accompanied me for the first two weeks. Carol's family had moved to the US from Ireland, and as she had never been to the UK - we decided that this would be a special time to go together, and indeed it was.

The plan was for me to stay at my counsin's house in Crickhowell until I found work and a place of my own. My cousin Lyn and her husband PJ had a big old house that they were in the middle of renovating. At the time, their son Andrew - 16, and daughter Kara - 6, were living with them. My Aunt (my Father's sister) and Uncle, had retired to Llangenny very close to the town, and so for the first time since my childhood, I felt as if I was part of my own family.

When I got on that plane with Carol, I had no work waiting for me, and although free of any debt, very little money. I took the leap of faith, I jumped off the peverbial cliff, not knowing what, or if there was anything at the bottom for me to land on....I just knew it was the right thing to do. I listened to my gut and intuition.

From the first moment I had set eyes on Crickhowell I knew it was a very special place. A quiet market town, nestled in the Usk Valley where the Black Mountains and Brecon Beacons meet, it really is exquisitely beautiful.

Carol and I had a fantastic holiday together, spending a week in Ireland and the rest of the time in Crickhowell. Carol being with me at that time was very special, and as I have mentioned in several other posts...to have a friend of her calibre is really a huge priviledge.

Carol and I in Crickhowell - a happy moment.

Carol and me - 1994

After Carol's return to the States, the new chapter in my life began. Tomorrow I will begin to relate my story from that point.

I have to say that in writing this, I am feeling all sorts of strange emotions. It's important that I tell the story of my return to Wales, as I experienced it at the time, and not in hindsight, and so that is what I will endeavour to do beginning tomorrow.

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Today I will post twice on my blog. The second post will be a montage of images relating to the period between 1966 til 1994.
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All seems well in Kent.
A Bientot