Wednesday 3 September 2008

DYLAN THOMAS

I thought I'd post something about Dylan Thomas and what he means to me.


(PICTURED - I took this image of the old post that makes up the landing area on Mumbles Beach where Dylan Thomas often walked. There is character in the aged, sea worn posts. No doubt Thomas would have leaned against these posts, enjoying a smoke and looking out to the sea, dreaming of the wonders beyond.)

The first acting gig I ever did was playing Sinbad in Under Milk Wood so the writer will always be important to me. Speaking his words on the stage with his world playing out around me was like a feeling I fail to find words to fully describe so to use a youthism, "it was awesome."


Apart from our shared nationality and love of the outdoors and a good whiskey, it is the man's skill with words and his devil may care attitude to life that makes him one of my all time idols. I've always admired people who lived by their own standards, regardless of the opinions of others - John Lennon, Hemingway, Bill Hicks, John Lyndon to name but a few. There's something alluring about the artist with the destructive steak.


Dylan was a romantic and controversial figure who lived to excess and died young. He had an inventive genius for lyrical phrases and had an impish sense of humour. He wrote for films and radio -as well stage and he was probably the first literary superstar in the age of pop culture. He was a favourite of John Lennon, Bob Dylan, T. S. Elliot and Richard Burton was a massive fan.

(Pictured - the sea wall runs the length of Mumbles Beach in Swansea, South Wales where Dylan Thomas was born and spent much of his life. Even in later years, after moving away, he would often return and walk these sands.)



To me the man is a legend, someone who is more accessible than a lot of the literary writers - he's like the first rock star poet. As his popularity and wealth increased then so too did his alcoholic binges and sexual promiscuity and his work would often take on a surreal edge that appeals to lifelong dreamers like myself.

Dylan drew his last breath a split second after 1pm on the 9th October 1953 in New York. He is buried in Laugharne, Wales which was his home for many years.


(Pictured - this lovely looking property stands like a sentinel on the road above the beach where Dylan often played as a young child.)




Anyone wanting to learn more about the writer could do no better than check out Dylan Thomas: A New Life by Andrew Lycett which is pulblished by Pheonix at £8.99 UK and $18.95 USA and Canada.





Key works:

Portraits of the artist as a young dog
Under Milk Wood
Collected Poems
The Map of Love

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