Dolphin Address 27 2003
August 20, 2003
With however clenched eyelids I try to finish my dreams, my ears amaze me even more with an enormous muffled rumble: the ocean has risen. The creamy blue distances are over and so are the sensitive contours, the stills in the water and the wind labyrinth, the friendly ripples and the clear break of water. Clouds, ink black and leaden grey gallop past, as if I fell from the saddle. Raindrops on the windscreen bulb up little bits of outside.
Has my time come, how will I leave, in elegy or sudden death? It is not fair to grieve, I have bathed in love and it was mutual. Still it seems cold, indifferent indeed to leave her, as so often, with a mere caress on a knee deep beach or a hard rock.
If ever heaven answered it could be now! A hole in the sky, about above Lisdoonvarna, the town of the Matchmaking festival. For centuries the bonds of love have been forged there between the lonely and the wandering. How would I be advised to give shape to my love for a dolphin.
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Right here I feel obliged to revise the direction of this edition. In spite of all the merry hearts and naughty double-meaning Lisdoonvarna is far from the exotique her name might incite. Manners in the local supermarket do not exceed the elegance of an artificial insemination station. The pubs and hotels are worn out cardboard façades, where the ghosts of seedy lovers wander. Living refuse bins, packed with disposable delights and far too fat women as boulders amidst sweet grass.
I leave my pizza at half past two and make for home, between the wheels and roll up the Slieve Elva. The window open and the 'Eurythmics' on 36. Again I travel the old trails and avoid familiar potholes. Across the crest there is another outlook: a curtain of light falls over Connemara from unlocked clouds. The sign 'Slow' reminds me of what is written on the road in Killshanny: 'Slow' and a bit further down: 'Slower'.
Suddenly everything fits again. Annie Lennox sings:
'And all the sweetness has been taken out of this place.
So many memories knocked down and replaced
And I can't stand to see the shifting tide
Taking me further, leaving you behind.'
The sea is in me, salty tears.
I pop in at Bridie's and when I tell her about Caroline's sperm whales, I enjoy the beam in her eyes.
Jan Ploeg, roadside Poul Sallagh, August 20th 2003
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