this is where it all began.

a child born 2 years into the 1960’s.

the year Golden Wonder crisps added extra flavours.

the year Marilyn Monroe was found dead.

the year I was born
with club feet
on a sofa in our living room.



I was born fresh into a ready made family of four. 

born in the suburbs, in the second experimental Garden City.

with a brother and sister, a father and a mother.

comfortably nuclear.

nothing to worry the neighbours about or make them lift their net curtains.  


as I grew up I was told many stories about my life as a baby.

story 1: “YOU WERE SUCH A QUIET BABY.”

years of operations on my feet lay ahead. there was no point in complaining.


there was nothing I could do but endure it.

I wasn’t old enough to have choices of my own.

when it all began I was just a baby in splints.

the frequent operations
kept me inside the house during the long school breaks.

looking out at neighbourhood children in the street playing in the sunshine.

I developed ways of coping.

reading. drawing. developing & feeding my imagination.

I wasn’t what you’d call a happy kid. or very social.