Why aren’t I like my parents?
No one in my immediate family likes classical music or reads anything except popular fiction. None are ‘artistic’ or have the slightest interest in theatre. They are hard working, honest, folk with neat houses in unimaginative gardens. So why did I become a nude model at 15; an actor and ‘escort’ at 16; crazy about opera and classical music; interested in art, and enjoy painting. I read, and write novels and stories and poems... and live in a huge wilderness garden – not a neat edge in sight.
It wasn’t till I was thirty that I learned about other members of my extended family: - a maternal great aunt who was a coloratura soprano of some skill and performed in many operas and musicals. A paternal great uncle whose artistic skills had him in demand; an uncle who was an accomplished actor and organised entertainment for the army in WWII; and a great uncle who left for Europe under a cloud as a young man... it seems he was a nude dancer and prostitutes until a police invasion spoiled things. Luckily his clients were wealthy men so the police gave them time to leave the country before charges were laid.
The children of the aforementioned relatives are uniformly prosaic, good citizens... how lucky was I to get such an odd collection of genes!