He seemed to be from a bygone era. The Connemara accent might have unfairly tipped me towards thinking that way, but his unflashy practicality added further to the impression. He had cycled from Dublin’s north side, locked his bike to some railings, rang the doorbell, then ceremoniously walked me into Harcourt Street. He supervised my … Continue reading Goodnight, John-Boy
-esque: in the style of, resembling (suffix, forming adjectives). There is no mistaking it, I am in Dublin. To borrow from Philip Larkin, Dublin is so Dublinesque. I disembark at Connolly, emerge into bright spring sunshine, and Dublin and I immediately remember each other. Here it comes, this vibrant feeling as I join all the … Continue reading Dublinesque
People are finding words to talk about the war. “Those poor people,” being the three most common words used. Those poor people are so nearby. Those poor people are our near neighbours. Those poor people are two and a half hours away by plane. They could be us. We might be them. Ubuntu: An African … Continue reading How People Cope
A few years ago, the BBC made a series of programmes called, What Do Artists Do All Day? Jack Vettriano, Scottish painter, was the subject of one. Sitting in his semmit vest humming Blue Velvet whist making tiny marks on the canvas, he turns to the camera: “I’m usually painting by 5am, steal a march … Continue reading Work Work Chop Chop Busy Busy Bang Bang
People are people, so said my sister with profound simplicity in a conversation we had over Christmas. The context of our conversation I cannot remember, nor can I remember specifically whom we were talking about, except that it was someone who had been demonised and demolished, someone who had made a mistake, had spoken without … Continue reading People Are People
I’m still in Portrush. Gales and more gales blow through, one trailing the other, bowling balls careening down a polished rink, on they roll, another, another, another. The wind abates for a day or two, then I’ll be lying in my upstairs bedroom at night and hear it gather speed, listen to it rise, rip, … Continue reading Letting Go
Parked up on a cliff edge in East Lothian, gusts of wind rocking my car, I waited for my friend and his two dogs to arrive. Our Sunday morning plan: breakfast followed by a walk. I stared out onto the bruised blue of the North Sea, looked upon the vast nearness of the Bass Rock … Continue reading When The Sky Falls In
Some people fetishise them, others abhor them. The more I look at mine, the odder they seem. Is that all I have holding me up? Upon close examination they look wholly inadequate. Too long and narrow to provide ballast – surely a better design would have been a broader base, like duck feet or snowshoes. … Continue reading Winter Feet
I decided to forget I was the one rushing to catch the plane and instead treat my dash as one long scene from a film. I was the protagonist, I had my willing driver, and this was going to play out to an ending I hoped for but wasn’t certain of. There are no certainties … Continue reading Cutting It Fine
“Tell Eimear what you did today.” There begins a slow review of the morning’s events interrupted by anything that distracts him (which is everything). There is Lala nose-diving off the chair, a quick play with new the train set, a run to the window to see if any birds are pecking at the fat-ball they … Continue reading How to Live Twice
My Edinburgh Press 