Alex Barr

I was born in Manchester in 1940. I’m grateful to my hometown for its humorous and phlegmatic way of looking at things, and to my parents, Mum for her unwavering love and concern, Dad for his stoicism and for being not just a cold Scottish scientist but the owner of the complete works of Keats, Wordsworth, Milton, and Shelley. I was educated at Manchester Grammar School and I’m grateful to my English and German teacher Jack Rivers for his humane, Quakerly outlook and my French teacher Johnny Lingard for inspiring my love of all things French.

I married Rosemarie in 1963 and am more grateful than I can say for her very dear and stimulating companionship and for striving to make me a better person. My son James was born in 1964 and I’m grateful to him simply for being the competent, caring, much-admired bloke he is—and to my other descendants without exception for being equally admirable. From 1967 I studied architecture at Portsmouth Polytechnic and I’m grateful for the challenges and cultural richness I absorbed from two tutors especially: Bernard Tschumi and Milutin Trpkovic.

In 1973 I enrolled in Harold Massingham’s poetry class at Manchester University and I’m grateful to him for kick-starting my serious attempts to write poetry. In 1984 I began Buddhist meditation and dharma studies, and I’m grateful to all the monks and lay teachers who turned my life around with their wisdom and insights. In 1996 Rosemarie and I moved to a smallholding in Pembrokeshire and I’m grateful, having recently moved back to England, for the enduring memory of glorious landscapes and the sea. The final chapter begins.