In the sleepy little seaside town he has finally found what he wants. Privacy. After a lifetime of searching for it, needing it, craving it, it is his.

Never has he truly felt the beautiful tranquility of being alone. Many times during his life he thought he had come close, but it wasn’t until he moved here that he realised what he’d had could in no way compare to what he experiences now.

His small house is no more than a repainted shack on the beach really. Just room enough for him and his work. A room in which to sleep, one to cook and eat, one to bathe, and the rest are filled with the products of years of artistic release and expression. Canvasses stacked against each other, some completed works, others still virginal surfaces barely touched by color before they were discarded in order to move on to a new idea.

Piles of small, bound books are haphazardly strewn around his home. Each containing its own story and graphic images; some food for thought, others just much-needed release for a tortured soul and possibly crazed mind.

His days are spent sitting on his small verandah, watching the sea. When the mood takes him, out come the notebooks and pens, or sketchbook and pencils, or small canvas and paint. Anything with which to record the words, images and ideas that flood his brain.

Hours can pass, the early morning drifting towards dusk, and he won’t notice. It is not until he finds himself squinting with difficulty through the strong lenses of his glasses trying to desperately make out what it is he has created, that he realises how late it has become. Although he has not moved all day, he does not feel cramped or uncomfortable. Quite the opposite in fact. If it weren’t for the lack of light, he would be more than happy to continue sitting where he is for all eternity.

But apart from the beautiful views and inspiration this town provides, it really is the serenity and privacy that truly established this place as a veritable heaven on earth in his eyes.

Although he avoided any form of communication and human interaction when he first arrived here years ago, he no longer dreads his fortnightly trip to the main street to stock up on necessities – pens, paper, art supplies, and of course, food (not quite as important to him as the other items though). He found that contrary to popular belief, people in small towns are just as capable of disinterest in the lives of others as citydwellers.

The people of his new hometown are aware of who he is and what he was, but are more than willing to leave him to his own devices. They have their own lives and own problems to keep them occupied; they don’t need to spend their time watching his every move, whispering about him behind their hands, or speculating on the rumors they had heard and read about him all those years ago. To them, he is simply another resident of the small coastal town who prefers to be left alone whenever possible, something that they are quite happy to do.

But despite the fact that the majority of the townspeople have never even set sight on him for longer than a few minutes, let alone spoken to him, they have somehow become fiercely protective of the reclusive man.

When strangers visit the town and happen to see the bearded, elderly man whose once dark hair is now shoulder-length and streaked with silver, either sitting on his verandah watching the sea, or walking through the streets, or returning from his daily early morning swim at the beach, the townspeople do whatever they can to prevent them from invading his privacy. When they are asked by curious tourists if it is true that the man living in the white, weatherboard house is who they think it is, even the most truthful of townspeople will lie through their teeth for him, because although they don’t admit it, they are quite proud of the secret resident they help hide from the world.

And although they don’t know it, this human ‘secret’ of theirs is more than grateful for their efforts. He had chosen their town in which to live out his final years simply because of the beautiful beaches and vast distance between it and larger cities, but he was delighted to find that it offered a lot more than that.

In a town full of people who know exactly who he is, he has found what he needs to keep him truly content – seclusion.