Paul always said he was on a family holiday in the Isle of White when the very first Isle of White festival happened (1968) and from that point on he wanted to be like the people he saw, he felt he belonged straight away. The next year he went by himself in 1970 when Jimi Hendrix played. He said he did not sleep for 3 days then he fell asleep and missed Hendrix’s very last gig before Hendrix himself went to sleep for good.
I believe Paul was then kicked out of the family house at 16 for smoking dope and for embracing being a hippy.
He went to every Glastonbury every year, collected records and played percussion.
Paul worked for the Post Office, he hated his job but it paid the bills – not very rock n roll.
I do not remember Paul much from when I was young. I was 5 when he left home he visited once maybe twice a year, never stayed the night and visited for a day. I thought he was a strange friend of the family of which there were a few.

When I was 15 or 16 we were talking about music and I was into rock-a-billy at the time around 1977 he told me about hippies and we talked of tribes and our love of music. He then started playing in a band with me and my friends. He played percussion with me the drums. We became proper friends, not just brother and sister.
We would meet up a couple of times a month around where he lived in Finsbury park, go see bands at the George Robey or play pool down the pub. He was very good at pool.
By the 90’s I got into rave and I took Paul to his first one, which was payback for him taking me to my first festival. A rave was like a festival, the same vibe and we embraced it together we then went out most weekends together. His friends were settling down,
buying houses and having kids so Paul hung out with my friends and they then became his friends.
We lived in Hanger Lane, west London. We met Jesus Jones and the KLF, used to drive their police car about, we met friends of theirs (Gimpo) we were all like minded humans, Gimpo knew Paul.
Paul retired at 50 and got a nice payout. Over the years he had got to know a crew that ran the Sanctuary in Koh Phangan so he moved out there. He lived on the highest point on the island. He would work in the UK through the summer at all the festivals and that gave him enough money to live abroad for the rest of the year, he was at last living the dream.

We were worried when the tsunami hit in 2004 but his name was one of the names that ran under all the news coverage and friends contacted me to say he was safe they had seen his name. A few days later we heard from the British consulate that Paul had died.
But he’d died from a fall from the platform where he lived, not from the tsunami. We will never know what truly happened but his death left a huge hole in mine, and my Sisters life’s, Paul knew people from every walk of life, from every country!
So why now why the People’s pyramid? We did a ceremony in Thailand and scattered his ashes there but I brought a small amount back here in his temple urn.
After Paul’s death Gimpo took him a few times on his M25 25 hour spin 2007-2008 and I have not done anything for a while.
Wow! time flies my sister’s youngest went travelling to Thailand and she wanted to see where her uncle lived and I realised it was 20 years since his death and that we should do something in Paul’s honour.
So now we are here with the last 23 grams of Paul.
Ironically, we sent him through the Royal Mail, to be in a brick of Mu and he is back with his people in a human Pyramid to be part of a project all about music and the love of the creative alternative few. Paul will fit right in……