Many times in my life I have felt compelled to take certain actions, go to far flung places or start a creative project that begins with a sentence or a dream that urges me on.

It is an inner voice in my head, one that provides me with a starting point but no glimpse of what the project could look like when it reaches completion. 

I know that if I don’t listen, it haunts me until I do. Then with heart in my mouth, I take a step forwards and start the journey. This could be a long journey or a relatively short one, depending on the project.

Taking up the challenge is hard because it requires huge leaps of faith and courage to commit. I never know what I am getting into when I start, and if I did know, maybe I would have had too many second thoughts and hesitated for too long then the opportunity will have passed me by.

But this week I listened to that inner voice, booked a ticket to Heathrow, London, caught a train to Mansfield in Nottinghamshire and bought a motorhome.

I nearly cancelled the flight twice. Some people thought I was mad to do such a wild thing, but there were others who encouraged me to keep going – “what have you got to lose” said the travel agent who booked the last minute tickets.

I had a small window of time, so this was it, now or never.

Travel has always been an in-between time for me when I can’t do anything other than surrender to the experience. It’s times like these that I feel open to what the world presents. I’m in a heightened sensory state, where seemingly strange coincidences occur. I receive random acts of kindness from strangers, or strike up conversations which lead to new insights or watch films and read books that seem to take on great significance.

I knew that Mansfield in the United Kingdom, would be a place where I could feel at home, having lived and worked in Mansfield, Victoria for 25 years of my life before moving to northern NSW. And I was right. The motorhome staff picked me up from the railway station then dropped me off at my accommodation, fortified with numerous cups of strong English tea.

After a huge 48 hours, I arrived at my little studio apartment B&B and collapsed to sleep. When I woke there was a movie on TV called Blinded by the Light based on coming of age memoir of a British journalist who grew up in Luton of immigrant parents during the great economic crisis that characterised Thatcher’s Britain.

This young man whose parents were originally from Pakistan, battled to find his way in the world as a writer. The lyrics and music of US singer/songwriter Bruce Springsteen fuelled him with courage to become who he wanted to be. By the end of the movie I was crying with emotion.

Art in any form that moves us needs to be celebrated. Humans are amazing in their capacity to inspire and influence each other. My projects and travel are often inspired by other people. Our trip in a horse and wagon in 1984 was in many ways inspired by Alan Marshall’s travels in a horse drawn caravan in Victoria during the Second World War, writing tales of people he met for the AIF to send to the troops at war.

My idea of living in a motorhome while undertaking my Masters in Visual Art in Devon in 2023 has in part been inspired by the writer Siobhan Daniels who I met earlier this year in the Outer Hebrides. She was still writing her book Retirement Rebel when I met her. When it was published in October I was eager to read it and discovered much to my delight that our adventures together in the Hebrides are featured in the last chapter.

This month I scheduled an author book talk with her to share her story with others, little knowing that I would end up in the UK with her for it. Its going to be an epic conversation!