Our Turest Life is When We Are in Dreams Awake Henry David Thoreau

Today was a very special day. It was the day I was going to fulfil a dream. That dream was to photograph Dylan Thomas' Writing Shed. Something I had wanted to do for a long time, never believing that the day would actually arrive. But here it was. I was doing it. Excitement, nerves, thrill, emotion.... every part of me was feeling something.

I had everything prepared and ready for the off.  I set out my cameras, tripod, remote, films, light meter, lens cleaning cloth... but still worrying that I would forget a vital piece of equipment. it's the adrenaline that puts your whole body and mind on high alert; all part of the excitement of the day.

It was time to leave. I drove to Laugharne, smiling, happy, singing Julie Andrews "I have confidence in me....!" thinking about the images I wanted to capture, wanting to enjoy every second of this day. A day I was to remember with a smile in my heart, for the rest of my life. Undoubtedly.

I arrived at the Boathouse, unpacked all my gear, my heart racing, unable to co-ordinate, and feeling like a stuttering wreck. I took a few deep breaths. Where to start. What should I shoot first, what was my perspective, what did I want to capture, what emotions was I feeling. After about 10 mins nerves and panic,I started to calm down.

I'd taken a few shots by now, none of them with any great conviction, but then I honed in on items. Dylan's chair, the telephone, the desk, books, the window,  and a photograph of Dylan with his mother and family. The parlour is really the only part of the house that is authentic, upstairs there is a film showing on a loop, and some artifacts that were not my focus. I shot a frame of the window overlooking the estuary, but by this time, tourists were arriving to view the Boathouse and it was difficult then to continue. And anyway, I felt I had done as much as I could in the house.

I was given the keys to the Writing Shed, so off I set with all my equipment to the place I really wanted to be. The Shed.

Letting myself in I was in awe of everything there. I wanted to capture as much of it as I could. Everything I could see. My focus was on the everyday. The stripped mug, the bottle of beer, the cigarettes in the ashtray, the rubbish in Dylan's jacket pocket and on the floor, disgarded words. Then there were the sheets of paper, words in Dylan's handwriting, the books, the pictures on the walls, the lamp, the view from the window where Dylan would have sat in contemplation, making decisions about the words to use

When I was in the Shed, there were lots of people milling about. I listened to lots of banter about why I was in there, what was I doing, was I a ghost, who is that woman, why is she in there, oh she's got a really old camera..... Many times I walked to the corner out of sight so that people could take photos from outside the door, as I had done many times before. But then it started to rain. Hallelujua! Really good for me! Now I could have some peace. I even allowed myself a self portrait, sitting in Dylan's chair. Silly of me not to think of taking a selfie with my mobile really. But I had too much on my mind.

Three hours, three colour and one black and white film later, I was done. I didn't want to leave but I had too. I said a genuinely hear felt thank you to the spirit of Dylan, locked the door and returned the keys.

I drove home feeling tired, contented and happy. What a day. Henry D Thoreau's words came to my mind. Today I lived a dream.