The little book of observations




30/10/05 ~ Furey's Sheela na Gig, Sligo, Éire.


In the small dimly-lit pub where originally strains of Buena Vista Social Club had woven through the dark wood, musicians gathered quickly and tunes were flying so furious and fast that you had almost to duck to save yourself from beautiful melodic decapitation.
Once sitting there was no chance of escape, although it was a different kind of escape that captivity here provided. A lean white dog crouched under a bar stool with wide eyes in the dark and was caressed by those attempting to make their way further and deeper into the room.
An unmistakable but indecipherable cry rang out around as the clock struck thirteen and darkly a satin figure, adorned with wood and copper, made her way over the heads of us and into the crazed circle; sounded deep brown and blue notes and enchanted all who held instruments, took leave of our senses and entered into a whirling wild, ecstatic state.
Sixteen O clock was reached and by now there was singing and whooping and feet tapping so loud as to burn out a great circular rhythm in our bodies; her words about dusting the cobwebs of the soul took greater meaning. Buena Vista returned in another form then, with spinning dancing arm waving, laughter and cheering.
By Seventeen and a half, there were faint hints of yellow on the horizon and the time was near for the music to take flight and reach the sunlit shores of foreign places, only to return when the musicians awoke from their exhaustion.
My mind made up, dazed, I was outside talking through a window, my hands and heart held tight and pierced by eyes smiling, saying the 'time has come'.

25/9/05 ~ Kinvara, County Galway, Éire.


Passing a lonely cowshed, and hearing terrible groans and bellows, it seemed to me likely that, therewithin, a life was beginning or ending that night.
From the top of the road, I watched the rays of an autumn sun spread in a great fan and pierce the distant sillohuette of the Burren.