Everything’s up to date

... in Kansas City.
Do I know that saying because I lived in Kansas City? Or is it well known? Who knows. What does it even mean? That the innovations of the avant garde East Coast have made their way to the provinces? Anyway, I’m bringing the blog up to date, covering yesterday and today.

I went to Derry yesterday to visit Mr. Bigger, a teacher from Foyle whose wife was one of my mentors when I was young. Thanks to serendipity doodah, his daughter Siobhan, her husband Eric, and their daughter Bea stopped by. I was delighted to see them, if only to interrupt Mr. Bigger’s repetition of the same stories over and over. His short-term memory appears to be shot. Siobhan has been battling breast cancer for the past few years. She overcame the first occurrence, only to have it recur five years later. She received a grim diagnosis, but--with a room-filling charisma so like her mother’s--she is keeping the cancer at bay. For how long, who knows. I think it’s so unfair that her two young daughters have to watch their mother go through this. And that Siobhan has to put on a good face every day when heaven knows the physical and mental toll the chemo and radiation take on her. She has a circle of tight-knit friends who are helping her get through it.

From there, Julie and I had a lunch on Queen’s Quay then went to see Hilda and Ronnie, her parents, aged 89 and 93. They are amazing, living independently in the house they were in in the 1970s when I lived in Derry. Hilda still teaches yoga. She loves telling of having her bones tested after a fall and being told she had the bones of a 20-year old.

Then we collected Julie's son, Ronnie, and sister, Moira, and we headed to Donegal, to Beltany Stone Circle, near Raphoe. There we met up with Sister #3, Caroline, and her three children, who enjoyed clambering over the giant prehistoric rocks. The ancient stone circle provides views in every direction of hills blanketed in green patchwork fields--my favourite view. I forgot my camera so included the link above.

The only highlights of Wednesday that come to mind are two events tied to the East Side Arts festival. The first was the launch of the Vault--a sprawling ugly old technical school building that has been turned over to a group of artists--musicians, puppeteers, graffiti artists, costume designers, photographers, etc. One highlight was listening to local musician Joshua Burnside. Next was a play at the art deco Strand Cinema called East Belfast Boy. I don’t quite know how to describe it. It was a monologue by a manic performer who swings between sobbing on the floor, laughing maniacally, and talking a mile a minute about, well, nothing. Hype and machismo. I guess he works as a DJ and has just had a baby with his girlfriend. He’s trying to make sense of his life in a world where guys of his demographic don’t go very far. He has high aspirations but it’s not clear how he will escape a culture of drugs and crime and low expectations. From the Irish News:
"It was a moving, strong, powerful performance that had pathos, vulnerability, energy, humour and menace wrapped up in the one character.”
What I didn’t like was how he prowled through the audience making eye contact -- how dare he! He’s a very angry, sexualised character and I wasn’t that eager to make eye contact but, unfortunately, I was on the aisle in the second row. Silly me.
So. An experience. I remember going to a performance at the Philly Fringe Festival. I didn’t get it, at all. But I told myself there is some value to stretching yourself, getting out of your comfort zone. And so I did, in East Belfast, on Wednesday night, for a long hour.
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