Eduardo Rodriguez was born in 1944 in southern Spain, living with his family and learning the ways of the family farm in post WW11 Spain. His life was tough and he wanted to travel and explore the countries he had heard so much about during his early teenage years.
Eduardo went to Cadiz and got a job on the boats, doing whatever he could do to earn some money, money he would save to get himself a nice place to live in London when he got there. Life on the boats was tough working all hours doing jobs that the other sailors didn't want to do themselves.
He found himself at long last sailing into the pool of London aged 17 years. The boat he was on was in London for a series of repairs sustained on the journey through Biscay and up the English Channel. This would enable the crew to go ashore and sample the delights of post war London town and the young Eduardo was first off the boat vanishing into the city night.
Eduardo ended up getting another job helping out at the flower market and getting himself a small room to sleep.
It wasn't too long before his Spanish charm worked its wonder on a young girl called Elisabeth and the two fell quickly in love, she would meet Eduardo whenever she could.
Eduardo then vanished back to Spain! Why? We are not sure but the fact that Elisabeth had fallen pregnant may have had something to do with it.
In 1961 the child, a young boy was put up for adoption.
Eduardo's life leaps into fiction, a life of what might have been, a life that maybe I would want him to be having? I may never know.
Maybe he worked the family farm until his parents, my grandparents become old and he sold up? I would like to think that he became a wondering artist, a social animal spending his summers along the French Riviera, basing himself in St Tropez, lunching at Club 55 on Pampelonne beach, chatting up the women, drinking late into the afternoon before navigating his way back to his apartment overlooking the Harbour in St Tropez with the women of the day...
He became friends with the artist Belanopek who also lived nearby and the two of them would run riot for many years.
My journey in these pictures is really to find out what he may have been like, why do I like certain things, where did my whole being come from? Who am I?
By treating these images I want to leave some mystery. Was it him at the table...Is he coming back...Will I find him? Questions I will probably never find the answers to.
I too have spent many days on the beach at Pampelonne, walking the harbour at St Tropez, before I started this little journey of my adoption.
More tales from Belanopek may follow thats, if I can find him too.