What a sensational archive of images the mind holds.
Last night in my dreaming and reverie, I reviewed hundreds of images of suburban Dublin, gardens and hedges and buildings and footpaths, doors and windows, crowds moving this way and that way, and people in swimming pools, pale white-skinned people and darker skinned ones too. Then I saw modern black-glass buildings and newly paved streets, active shop-fronts and closed down premises, buses and pedestrianized places. Images on images and images.
What brought on this great exhibition of images in my head\? Undoubtedly my activities of yesterday.
First, of course, I had my breakfast. Then I took a bus into town and made my way to Markiewicz sports and fitness centre, where I had a swim and sauna. Markiewicz is in a newly re-built section of Dublin with mighty black-glass buildings, adjoining the Tara Street railway station, but nearby are many old buildings and some dereliction. Then I took myself up to Yamamori Sushi, near the Halfpenny Bridge for lunch, where I was delighted to find that black rice was back, having been missing for weeks (probably due to trade hold-ups arising from the current conflicts in the outside world). The nearby streets are pedestrianized and re-paved beautifully, and there is a pleasant new hotel (Motel One) just beside Arnott's.
I bussed home, to review my James Joyce file, for tomorrow, in Clareville Centre, we celebrate Bloomsday and I will wear a white jacket and straw hat and pretend to be himself.
Then I went off in my car to do the weekly shopping. I had left it a bit late in the afternoon, and the traffic was very slow-moving. New urban centres have been built up beyond Finglas, but the roads have not been expanded. The government wants to get people out of cars and into buses, but it can't work because buses don't take you where you want to go, but only on scheduled routes. What the city needs is Krunchie's Cab, but nobody has read my book yet.
Back from shopping, I went to my office and reviewed my recording of Lissmulgee. I had tried this to many different accompaniments. Last night I put it to a Yamaha style called "Hawaiian," and this seemed to be the best yet. So I opened up my recording software and added my voice. Was it perfect? No! But perfection is the enemy of progress, so I decided to run with it. First I needed a picture for the record cover. Now, I had taken a whole series of photos in Lismulgee years ago, but they have been lost on a back-up device that broke down. I have been using Photoshop for years, in a version that is no longer supported and just now has been rejected by my version of Windows, so I have installed an imitation called "GIMP" which I am trying to learn to use. Well I put up a recent bland picture of Lissmulgee and doctored it as best I could, then uploaded it to Amazing Radio. (I will post it to Distrokid, YouTube Music and all the rest later).
Having done that I had my tea (egg and salad) and watched the News and Heartbeat.
All this would have been ringing round in my head as I hit the pillow, but mostly the character I met in the Sauna early in the day, - a young reformed drug-addict. I first encountered him in the sauna last Friday, when he appeared with two companions, whom I first took to be like himself, but it transpired that one was a social worker or supervisor and the other was a good friend who had been a school-mate and was there to support him. The character had been to jail, and, that having been a rather unpleasant experience was determined to stay out of trouble. His wife had got a barring order against him, so he was not allowed to see his two or three children. He says it is hi wife who is using drugs, not he, but a social worker told him to prove this. He said to her: "Isn't that your job. You are supposed to observe things." However, he took a video on his phone of his wife buying drugs and sent it to the social worker. He was obliged to support his wife, but could not afford rent at the same time, so his landlord became nasty and evicted him. However, he came under the Homeless Services, and they got him a new place and pay for his rent. When he is employed, they reduce the rent subsidy.
Now, it appears that Sauna is part of his rehabilitation programme. The social worker supervisor was apparently there to ensure that he took his sauna. All three were watching the clock. After a while, the social worker said he had to go now, as he had other duties to attend, and reminded your man to do five more minutes, which he did. When the social worker was gone, conversation between the two friends confirmed his function. They had both known this social worker when they were at school: he lived on another street, and they had only met him again on this day.
So, on Wednesday I saw your man again in the Sauna. He was by himself, and it seemed that his rehabilitation was progressing.
When I went to bed all these adventures were a jumble and I saw the old Dublin changing in multiple images old and new.
