I felt the draw of the high seas.
The salt wind and sea air. The very things I needed to go with my new sunglasses.
And the Missus needed a break from the daily grind, she longed for foreign shores and blue skies.
The old captain I bought my ship from told me about an island that had a tree with golden berries.
There were little birds that protected the tree but they could be put to sleep by singing a special song.
The old captain had forgotten the song but he said he would email it to me when it came back to him.
So we spent a couple of days looking around the ship, up and down the stairs.
Eventually the Engineer said it was time to go on our adventure.
The ship went so fast it needed lots of exhaust pipes. Even the paint got blown back by the speed.
We left other ships far behind.
While we were in our cabin, I got an email from the old captain. It had the words of the song and a Google Map with the location of the island.
We went as fast as we could.
First we had to get past a fortress where we think there were cannibals!
Then into the enchanted parkland with cycle tracks.
If someone could do this to the magic tree what would they do to the rest of us!?!
I came across more secret hoardings on the outskirts of Dublin. This time promising me blue skies and yellow fields. I was intrigued. Was this real?
Other people just walked by as if it wasn’t there. Maybe it was a mirage. I was out on a stretch of motorway called the N7 near the place of the Red Cow. A mysterious crossroads that has been changing shape and direction for many years now so I was ready for anything.
Then I noticed a transparent building, this must be powerful magic or science or something.
A magician walked by and gave the building form. I knew he was a sorcerer from his funny shoes and purple robes.
And after he had passed by the building returned to bones. I ran after him and he told me to go beyond the hoarding into the ‘field’ and I would find the building…
and I did and it was beautiful. Undulating ribs of oxidized iron with perfect squares as doors! Even better than the dream.
And inside a portrait of me! What a magician!!!
The Red Cow is truly a mysterious zone.
The hoardings of the unsold apartment blocks in my neighbourhood are beginning to become over grown. Like some lost garden of delights or secret oasis that a weary traveler might find on their journey through the grey city.
The promise of luxury lifestyle peeks out from beneath the ivy beckoning an unwary innocent into their folds….
or wandering around taking pictures on the weekends, although it has been defined as ‘to vandalise dormant energies by an act of ambulant signmaking’. by Colin Graham who lectures in English at NUI Maynooth.
so there’s more to it than wandering around taking pictures on the weekend…
or is there?