We had business to attend to. For this kind of business we had the need for business suits, appropriate office equipment and a working soundtrack that is, of course, the business.
Getting a wave in was by the by; there were folks to see out the way there to toss about a few ideas, inhale some inspiration for a future project but most importantly to get the bitumen shifting behind us at a swift clip. The rattle and hum of a little car on these West Ireland roads vibrates a fine rhythm throughout your body and can be most conducive to coaxing the abstract from a brainstorm into more tangible and malleable forms.
The lines of both road and coast bend and buck fitfully as one winds themselves south from Ballisodare and out toward Enniscrone. Clumps of houses, dispersed
Our journey is in staccato, halting here and there along the hedges and decaying, albeit persistent, stone walls to peer through cracks and gaps seaward. The Atlantic is heaving its seas heavy against reef and beach. With the arc of each headland or promontory-to-be its energies are refracted or reflected, inward or elsewhere. The language is both familiar but unintelligible and the furious dialogue that ensues between the sea and the shore when the Atlantic decides to have words with the West here is a debate surely worthy of attention. We’re hear with open ears, wide eyes and nostrils flared as we hang on its every word.dwellings, slate-coloured shells of abandoned ideals protrude from fields like broken teeth – busted and rotting as those of cloven hoof shuffle about or shelter within in their daily dance with the weather.
There are spaces where the debate appears to be more eloquent, arguments coming in turn as finely crafted verses. Here one might find a chance to slip silently into the theatre and come a little closer to the conversation in the hope that a chance may come to participate in the conversation.
As it happened, we did find such a suitable forum and were gifted the opportunity to put forward our suggestions.