SEBASTIAN BLAKELEY

Memories of my childhood are prominent in my self-perception. It was a free, free childhood, with lots of outdoors: fishing, walking, exploring and often in conversation with invisible beings and/or God. Church on Sundays, subsistence repetitive diet, lots of imagination.

I was unaware of parental conflict and unaware of our extreme lack of money. My childhood feels and felt rich, a richness that was suddenly interrupted. From the wilds of Cornwall to the tough suburban life of South London and Orpington.

For a couple of years I was angry, and was only really helped back on track by the fantastic headmaster I had in the first two years of Secondary School. Often in trouble, Mr. French would whisk me into his office: cup of tea, slice of fruit cake and his library at my disposition. A larger-than-life man, and I guess one of the first of these larger-than-life men dotted through my life.

My Primary School headmaster advised my mother to send me to technical school rather thangrammar school, and when my parents got back together again, her search for a suitable school led us to Tonbridge. Tonbridge led to the chance meeting of my parents with Raphael and Hester Bates. I was 13 years old, starting another new school, and very happy to be meeting large Subud families and being ushered into the Tunbridge Wells Subud group activities. My O Level exam choices looming, I believe I had no hesitation in jumping at the opportunity of takingwoodwork and technical drawing O Levels a yearearly, at 14. I was already very keen on technical/practical subjects, but when I moved to Tunbridge Wells Technical High (for boys), I initially clashed with the technical drawing teacher and the woodwork teacher. In fact, I had angry, physical confrontations with both men – almost fights. It's extraordinary really, because very quickly after those first terms of conflict, I became a top student in both subjects.

Woodwork, design and furniture were a pretty early decision of “this is what I'm going to do”.Teen days arrived, the fallings in love and emotional turmoil coming in waves. Waves that I really feel were mellowed by the many Subud gatherings and the strong, very recognizable maleand females role models that were offered by the parents of my Subud friends: characters that in my feelings were huge and probably hugely influential.

I did spin out in my late teens, running wild and unchecked; but there was always an inner voice, and, fortunately, I always wanted to work, to create and to invent. The 'weed' and the dibbling and dabbling was held in check because I always felt it impeded my creativity. Lucky really! The need to create surged through my being, kept me safe. Friends died around me, friends lost their way, but I always felt strong inside. A big motorcycle accident was the much-needed full stop. Off came the leathers and the long hair. Bikes all sold, a phone call to Leonard (Lassalle) and off to latihan. Fortunately, I was always working through those wild years: cabinet making and restoration work.

Latihan was easy for me, no need to question, very straight forward and natural. I was self-employed, working in my own workshop in Sussex, with good projects and things were goingokay. My Subud involvement became the T. Wells committee, then UK Subud Youth. Committee and chair. Latihan was surging spiritual ideologies formulating, opinion setting. Young, idealistic, opinionated doing latihan. It was not long before the shake-up began. I remember feeling so sure, so full of myself in one latihan, so sure of what I was going to say, then Kazzam!!! I got thumped in the latihan, watch that ego, Sebastian!!! England Subud led to Italy Subud and a turbulent, vibrant energetic 5/6 years. Then back to the UK and back to woodwork and the start of prototyping my own designs. I had fallen in love with Italy. Everything: the food, the weather, the style, the finesse, the countryside, the language, the hospitality and my friends there.

So back to Italy I went. Subud at this point started to irritate me, the constant discussions andthe complete lack of achieving anything cohesive. Abstract spiritual cross mental masturbation. I pulled away and life led me through an Odyssey of small Italian, highly professional, family-run artisan factories. Tubularsteel and cast aluminium. Milan beckoned and what an Epiphany! I was totally bowled over and my creativity went bananas. I was not doing latihan regularly and I was actually heading back into a distinctly Bohemian lifestyle and bunch of friends.

I could have gone to bed after consuming vast amounts of Spumante and red wine, but would almost always wake up with an “Allahu Akbar”, as the first words that came out of the fog. Again it needed drama, a massive drama, death and disaster to re-direct me. I became fairly reclusive,three years of house arrest in Italy. I designed andcreated and had to watch my behaviour. I had friends who watched my behaviour. I walked everywhere and fell in love yet again with the beauty of Tuscany and Planet Earth. Taking in a beautiful view would destroy me, my knees would buckle under the beauty of our Garden of Eden.

My journey continued and serendipity prevailed.

Subud characters and, more important, a Subud lady reappeared in my life. Another corner was taken, children started arriving and many things shifted – a polar shift.

Frightening responsibilities I did not find easy and, yet again, the latihan helped to keep an evenkeel. Stormy seas and rocky coastlines. Me pushing to achieve, waiting to achieve somethingmagnanimous. Big projects and the need for bigger earnings led me away from the furniture and fed my ego. Spain loomed into my and my family's life. Seven years of battling for survival. A period in my life, recent and raw, painful and not pleasant. A period of my life that may take me years to understand the why. Other than the severe humbling of Sebastian Blakeley it makes no other sense.

So, back to England, tail between my legs and the need to re-invent myself. Serendipity, chance meeting and a very rapid re-focussing on my furniture and my designing. There are many smaller tales left out of this draft, some of which are relevant. It is profoundly interesting to me, looking back at my life, seeing where I stand

now. I am focussed, but deep down inside frightened; I know where to go, I believe that for the first time I am in the “right place at the right time”. Some things inside of me have closed down and some are reigniting. The latihan, despite a small element of scepticism about Subud, is strong. We move forward. I move forward. I stand not perfectly solid or steady, but I stand in my own skin and I feel connected.

I embrace connection with a bigger picture, yet have no time for mental or spiritual masturbation.I am doing being and I know where I am going. I have no wish at this moment in time to look around my peripheral vision.

My chairs and my designs are a manifestation of my state of being. My direction is clear for the time being.