Since Dusty has decided to commute between the paradisiacal island of Inis Oirr and the noisy oil soup of Doolin Harbour it has taken a lot of my patience to coincide with her. Also due to my very late start this year I have only swum with her twice out of the eleven swims total on both locations. Oddly enough these two successful swims yielded great photos and footage.
From the Doolin old pier I could only see about a meter of slipway, which wasn’t too inviting. Should I go through the lengthy proces of getting into my suit, only to stare into half a meter of grey-green invisibility?
While I was weighing my options I heard a familiar sigh, Dusty was right under me.
Yesterday truly was the first day of the rest of my life. And it already began before boarding the Doolin ferry to Inisheer. My as-long-as-Dusty-friend Jane was there as well. So we chatted our way over to the island in no time and arrived in a truly paradisiacal ambience
Isn’t the Universe a great provider! Since I got on to hemodialysis last December I have been begging to get my fistula (arm connection) in place, because I was told that my line connection in my neck wasn’t waterproof. As one of the two lines goes straight to my heart it would be too dangerous. But there was a waiting list, like there always is…
On more than one occasion I have cherished the idea here that ‘The wider your eyes are apart, the more depth you can see’. The metaphorical interpretation goes for the bipolar graced and inflicted, as perceiving the world from alternately exaltation and despair gives a deeper insight in the human existence than a moderate mental climate.
This year it’s exactly 30 years ago that I began to develop the waterwing. Since September last year I’m going to school again, to the Art College in Limerick, 39 years after I began as a self-taught sculptor in wood. Rather a bit the other way around, but making sense all the same. And a lot more than that!