The flight into Shannon was spectacular. The decent is over water with the green 'fingers' of the two peninsulars either side. There are distant views of hills and mountains and the flight takes you over several islands. An early arrival meant the morning sun was trying to break through cloud as the 'plane lost altitude, white frothy puffs covering the wings punctured by shafts of sunlight. Nevertheless as we land it starts raining, no surprise there, and I am worried that I should have packed more waterproof clothing.
One thing always strikes me when I visit this emerald Isle. Its the soft lyrical Irish voices. In the street, in this cafe, wherever, for me there is an immediate feeling of ease and security that the spoken language promotes. It is both the phraseology, the rythmn and the lilt. My mother was born in Dublin but left Ireland to live in England when she was in her early twenties. Something in these voices trigger memories of childhood – a happy time.
I have been thinking that it may be difficult to access the net once I am on Inishlacken and so I have devised a 'blog system' on which you, the reader. will have to trust that I am honouring. I will write my blog each morning (and maybe evening too) into my sketchbook and transcribe this whenever I can access a computer. I am hoping I can visit the mainland at some point during the period on the island so that may give me a chance to upload recent writings. I promise there will be no retrospective editing!
Now off to catch a bus to complete the final leg of the journey. I am going to Clifden but have been told to ask the bus driver to stop at the canal stage where I need to alight and hopefully meet one of the other artists to travel the last stage by car.
