I spent my life folded between the pages of books.
In the absence of human relationships I formed bonds with paper characters. I lived love and loss through stories threaded in history; I experienced adolescence by association. My world is one interwoven web of words, stringing limb to limb, bone to sinew, thoughts and images all together. I am a being comprised of letters, a character created by sentences, a figment of imagination formed through fiction.
My dad has made me proud, but I also wonder if he’s completely insane.
He worked three years flat out and then took a few years off to restore a castle in West Cork, Ireland. It was literally a pile of stones falling into the sea. Absolutely beautiful, but the sort of project any normal man would have walked away from. Not my dad. It’s amazing; you have to hand it to him. He absolutely knows what he wants and he does it regardless of what anyone else thinks.