As far as I can recollect, my Black Sheep life began on a cold, dark, fearful New Year's Day, two minutes past midnight, London 1944 - being bombed. After twenty-four years of displaced home-searching with Grace, my Irish-Liverpool mother and Yanni, my Greek- Cypriot father, I began my own insecure searching, first by immigrating to South Africa as a qualified Lithographer. Sunny but 'Apartheid' was a human-fascist disgrace. On to Rhodesia (Zimbabwe), and other fading British colonies, Malawi, Zambia, Tanzania, Kenya and Portuguese Mozambique. Mombassa to the Seychelles Islands, deck class on an Indian freighter and on to the Indian Sub-continent.Time had stood still since the end of the British Raj. The country was vast, full of wonder, shock, awe and beauty. I was forced to draw on the inner depths of my being, but also began to find within me a lost Tantric spirituality during those wanderings from the plains of the South to the Himalayas of Kashmir, Manali and Nepal. In Nagaland on the North East Frontier I developed an interest in anthropology and art.
The way led on from Calcutta to the Golden Triangle of Burma, Laos and Thailand.
Penang, Singapore, Hong Kong and their proliferate opium dens. Culminating in a romantic affair in a 1000 year old tea house, on the west coast of non English speaking, post war Japan. I shipped out on an Aussie cruise ship from Nagoya and was the only passenger to clamber down her ladder on to the reefs of New Guinea. Twelve hour shifts in jungle logging camps financed a years rush of Surfing Australia.
The homeward route was the massive desert drive to Darwin via Ayers Rock, then across to Papua and Westwards, through the archipelago of Indonesia discovering the Magic of pre-tourist Bali.A return to Mother India, this time the South East, round Cape Comorin and Sri Lanka to find and fall in love with Goa, grow my hair long, settle down for a bit to a Neo-Sadhu/Hippie life style in search of Gurus, Buddha's and Gods, until in 1972, when the dual arrival of L.S.D and the misplaced sound equipment of "The Who", added a fifth dimension to a wonderfully scrambled reality, the Hippie-India party had begun, extending to surreal backgammon tournaments on the old colonial ferry boat, steaming up the coast from Panaji to Bombay.
Years later I was to set up a Windsurfing school-restaurant and raise a divine daughter, Sasha Lotus, on the then-deserted Baga Beach. An overland drive East from Amsterdam through communist Bulgaria, Turkish Anatolia, the Shah's Iran, pre-Russian tribal Afghanistan and its sweet green tea, canaries and guns, Pakistan's riot of colour and death-defying traffic.
The coast to coast drive on U.S.A. Route 66, quaint old Puerto Vallarta-Mexico with Richard Burton and Jack Nicholson, full moon ceremonies at the Mayan sites of Guatemala and far out, drop out Maui completed my world, almost. There was still North Africa, Spain under Franco and the island of Ibiza.
So the trail of choice was set, the Hippy Trail, for the next twenty years Ibiza, India and Bali became the new places to party, a new kind of party. Free from state or social control and historic references, an inhibition-less playground, full of new horizons.
Circumstances, or maybe a Divine Calling and the birth of my handsome son Jonjon, saw my providential return to N. Europe! Later a bit of horse breeding in Ireland, Austrian Bank fraud, English Pound devaluation, the loss of my Treasure Map and the death of my Parrot, resulted in financial, institutional and personal disappointments, but created the opportunity to be recaptured by Ibiza's magic and into a restaurant partnership with ex-wife Annbritt and her boyfriend; hosting my 'Buddha Bar'.
A test, it failed! But the real test was still yet to begin. They left, I continued. Still full of illusions and fearlessness I began to create and build a themed philosophical-spiritual-social centre for my friends; that reflected the inspirations and essence of my travels in Asia.
Incomplete, under financed and ill prepared, she opened in 1999.
Thus began seven years of entertainment and suffering; trying to fuse the ways of a pirate with a world full of bureaucratic regulations and day to day obligations that I was not even close to being prepared for. Condemned to learn what its like to work in a seasonal restaurant, on party-island Ibiza! I was reduced by working with crowds and employees; constantly on demand, relating to people, smiling, crying, explaining, defending, arguing. Service, clients, friends, business, banks, accountants, planning, politics, learning what seemed apparent to almost everyone who knew me, that it was a near-impossible task. My wings were cut, I was grounded. No more sawing in free flight, only multidimensional disharmony and disease, constantly going out from my self and going down. Tired and exhausted, I retreated to very lonely places, to a mid-life crisis, massive alcohol and drug abuse, loveless cranial sex, bad physical health, looming bankruptcy, family destruction and near spiritual annihilation.
Cesar, an accountant saved the business; I saved myself, just, finally stepping back from the edge of the precipice at the age of 63. My quota of self abuse over, but the following period of withdrawal also meant leaving old friends and habits also hard and lonely.
I searched for new interests and pacifiers and found solace and strength in yoga, walking, reading, writing, working. Shamanic ayahuasca ceremonies, feathers, bones and singing.
Poetry, meditation and contemplation of God. 'With knowledge and truth and virtue as the theme, and lofty hopes of divine liberty. My inmost sense suspended in life's web of many shifting coloured hues.'
The foreplay over, the orgasm of Life has bloomed! I am expecting my reward; a treasure, maybe even a goddess, instead, a near death car crash leaves Jonjon paralysed from the chest down! He has bravely recovered a lot, although still with mobility restriction and must use a wheel-chair, but his intellect is expanding, studying and reading in the libraries of Oxford Brookes University, England. We are still with grief and healing, joy and sadness entwined toward acceptance. Our Buddha-hood alive and growing, the rebellious spirit still strong, anarchy replaced by love, every insecure moment, a gift.
I am in a state of wonder at the miracle of life, being up here in the 67 year-rarefied air environment of longevity-experience-knowledge; observing the younger ones, looking back and writing about it.
The process of asserting the world of johnmoon on to Bambuddha has gradually reversed, until now Bambuddha asserts her will onto johnmoon. A living caring, harmonious relationship, healthier, more at ease, fitter for peaceandlove.
Sasha pursues a career in fashion and is the buyer and designer for the Bambuddha Boutiques. Jonjon is now managing while I go boating and fishing.
Bambuddha Grove, a temple restaurant, a temple for Black Sheep, a temple for peaceandlove.
johnmoon-Elder of the Black Sheep Tribe.
I am in a state of wonder at the miracle of life, being up here in the 67 year-rarefied air environment of longevity-experience-knowledge; observing the younger ones, looking back and writing about it.
The process of asserting the world of johnmoon on to Bambuddha has gradually reversed, until now Bambuddha asserts her will onto johnmoon. A living caring, harmonious relationship, healthier, more at ease, fitter for peaceandlove.
Sasha pursues a career in fashion and is the buyer and designer for the Bambuddha Boutiques. Jonjon is now managing while I go boating and fishing.
Bambuddha Grove, a temple restaurant, a temple for Black Sheep, a temple for peaceandlove.
johnmoon-Elder of the Black Sheep Tribe.
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