Colin Wilson (26 June 1931 – 5 December 2013)

I first heard about Colin Wilson years ago when I was homeless and writing books sleeping in parks and roof gardens, so I loved finding out that he'd done that too when writing his first book, 'The Outsider', in the British Library by day and sleeping under the stars in Hyde Park at night.

But I only actually got into his books a couple of years back, at which point I gobbled up every one of them I could find - Religion and the Rebel, The Outsider, Beyond The Outsider, Superconsciousness, The Misfits, The Strength To Dream.... I love that they are all pretty much just one book, a small, tight number of passions and things he felt to be incontrovertibly true that he obsessively returned to over and over again, for decades. Always reminded me of Van Morrison, in that.

He was a little too wide-eyed and gullible, especially when it came to UFOs & the occult side of things but the flip side of that is that he was always open and ready to be interested in something new, to be ready to dream with open eyes.

He was what we around these parts call 'a freelance enthusiast' and a little Buddha of all his own making. A sweet, mystical, lovely man.