I am the first one awake
I am the first one to rise
I make my way down the narrow stair, still stupefied by sleep towards the kitchen.
Barefoot I move towards the window, a double dose of fresh air to the brain is needed.
I focus my eyes, awareness, awakening.
Condensation and birdsong.
I hang out the window and observe the town, tri coloured bunting hangs above the street under which kinds make their way towards school, passing a veg man and a bread van who intersect one another on the road.
A head tilt and a wink, the universal sign of recognition.
The air is clean, a breeze to the face feels like heaven.
All is as it should be and I am far from the Pale.

Last night I had the opportunity to return to De Barra’s, a Mecca, a treasure throve of last happenings whose energy still swells within it’s walls.
Walls that smile, walls adorned with curios and voodoo, a place where a man might fall in love, stumble upon a life altering idea, drink till he is drunk and sing til it was sung all in one night.

I first experienced the place three years ago when Damien Dempsey brought me down to open for him, a gesture of Homeric epic proportions.
I’d been on tour with him for the previous few weeks, discovering parts of our country that I’d never before seen, places that I’d imagined in thought dream with a man who I’d idolized since the age of thirteen.
The tour ended with two nights in this place

It was November
It was misty
Is was blissful

I look back on that young man now, himself unsure of many things, taken in by good people and looked after, listening , learning, expressing, experiencing the joys of travel gifting him renewed focus and drive.
I can see us all now sat around the tables downstairs after hours singing loudly and spilling our souls and spirits out into the room adding our own echoes to the archive.

I am very fortunate to be able to meet weird and wonderful, gifted and artistic, decent and inspiring people as I make my way along the path.

Another of whom Junior Brother joined me for this leg of the journey.
Junior Brother is a man who I’ve admired since the days before I found a bed in Dublin, we first met in Listowel just a few days before I first set foot in Clon.
He is a true artist whose work is both complex and profound while remaining colloquial and relatable.
No airs or graces though he churns out graceful airs.

I adore that room !
It has all the warmth and character in the world.
A room full of the feelings of home.
I went for a walk, then a swim all within.
It was a joy, it was a joy full stop.

The deepest of thanks to Ian the conductor and to Ray for going above and beyond, a gentín personified.

Index finger pressed to the page,
Rewind the reel.
Earlier the previous day I had the chance to go further back into the well of memory, back to Trabolgan where I spent a week as a child to It Takes a Village festival.
I was due to play at three o’clock but before the session of expression I was asked to be the guest on The Blindboy Boatclub Podcast.

The universe is an avid listener it seems for this man and his work has been very present in my world over the past month.
He seems to be an enlightened individual and it was a trip getting to converse with him.
A shining voice of humour and reason in the country today, if you have yet to experience the Blindboy Podcast then do yourself a favour and seek it out !
It is medicinal and a product of a tuned in head.

Then came another outpouring
The rains stayed away.

The past few days have been full in every sense.
Now to get cleaned up and head back towards Dublinia.

Swimming in the current
Working with the flow
Happy as Larry —— I reckon this saying originated with auld Lazarus who was happy after his resurrection ( open to correction)

David X