Hello friends. It’s been a while. How are you?
But how are you really?
If you’re anything like me, the last few days, no, the last few weeks have been rough, in many ways. But hey, we’re both still here, fighting the good fight, and that’s something to be celebrated right?
It hasn’t been all bad, honestly. Over the past few weeks I’ve been co-producing Theatremaker.ie’s event for the Dublin Arts & Human Rights Festival: a panel discussion about the role of theatre in platforming and promoting diverse narratives. If you missed the livestream of our panel, you can watch it HERE. It was a honest and frank discussion, with superb panelists, and Thomas Conway moderating. Give it a watch, and keep the conversation going!
And now, to ease back into my weekly sparkles…
I pray that we all learn to have as much confidence and as much exasperation as Doris Lessing when a reporter broke terribly exciting news to her outside her home in 2007.
Singing on a Sunday
I cannot put into word the CHILLS that this next clip gave me. Sunday in the Park has to be my favourite musical EVER. Just listening to those meaty harmonies, and that dissonance! My heart can’t handle it. I first saw this on NYC Next’s Instagram, and I couldn’t get enough.
If I could just listen to this on repeat for the rest of my life I feel like I’d be eternally happy.
Oh yeah. Did you really think I was going to get all the way through this post without stating the obvious? Ireland started its second lockdown this week, and I think Joyce is expressing what we’re all feeling.
But hey. Lockdown isn’t all bad. At least some clever inventor has come up with a way to make us all look like we’re walking on the floor of the ocean. My first thought was, “what if footballers had to play with these on? It’d be a lot harder to hit the ball with their heads”. And then I realised I was actually asking myself this question outloud and started to doubt my sanity, so my next question was (actually in my head this time) “Can they make it soundproof?” I don’t want people to know how much I actually talk to myself now.
Speaking of Talking to Myself
Any one else send themselves messages over FB when they want to remember things? There’s probably a fancy way to save the articles/posts/whatnot, but something about scrolling through the list that past Abbie left for me is comforting on a cold winter night after my fourth hot whisky. (Oh yeah, no heating? No problem! Just mix 3 layers of jumpers, socks, and sweatpants, add a hot whisky and a hot water bottle, and you might as well be paying an outrageous amount of money heating your flat.)
After a desperately cold and unhappy night, I found myself scrolling through my messages and came across this, which I am still so geekily excited by.
ASK THE CRAFTERS! THEY WILL KNOW! Or the leatherworkers….or the falcon trainers…
(I know this is SO random, but these sorts of things make my inner geek giddy.)
He was such a Fungi
Another day, another missing dolphin, ammiright?
I’ve never been to Kerry, hence my connection the legend that is Fungi is minimal. I have, however, thoroughly enjoyed the multiple explanations for his disappearance, from a soap opera saga of a long-lost-son, to tax avoidance, and the common sense answer of “HE’S A WILD ANIMAL!”, it’s been a joy to come across a few of this plausible scenarios over the last few weeks.
Before I go, I want to give a virtual hats off to the Dublin Theatre Festival and Dublin Fringe Festival teams, who have been such an inspiration to us all as they rolled with the punches and provided one-of-a-kind theatrical experiences for us, mostly from the comfort of our own homes, but sometimes with real, live actors.
Perhaps the only question to ask in times like these is:
Will you be making a sourdough starter or banana bread during lockdown #2?
Take care of yourselves and each other.