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Julia, Lucy and me

Down by the river. Photo by George Angus "At the age of 37 She realized she'd never ride Through Paris in a sports car With the warm wind in her hair" Marianne Faithfull's raw voice singing The ballad of Lucy Jordon , had me in tears on my 37th birthday. Like her, I would never make it to Paris before the day was done and a sports car was definitely out of the question. Hearing the song being played again recently, and thinking back sixteen years, I tried to remember what made me feel so wretched. Outwardly my life was not that bad, but it struck a deep chord that I myself was not yet fully aware of:  of a soul longing to be realised.  In all honesty, Paris or any city abroad and sports cars are not my criteria for happiness. It would be fun, but no reason to throw myself of a roof like poor old Lucy. Surely it is not merely about a longing to be someone special, or of experiencing the most romantic dream one could possibly have amidst the drudgery of...