"So she took her love for to gaze awhile upon the fields of barley, in his arms she fell as her hair came down among the fields of gold; Will you stay with me, will you be my love among the fields of barley? We'll forget the sun in his jealous sky as we walk in fields of gold; I never made promises lightly and there have been some that I've broken but I swear in the days still left we'll walk in fields of gold; We'll walk in fields of gold..." [-Sting]
Saturday September 9th...
I am tired and my heart is beating slower than it ought to. But I close my eyes and inhale and jump out of bed. After a few minutes of clothes, make-up, and this and that, I make my way to Electric Soul Tattoo.
I love shop life. I love the stories. I love the banter. And most of all, I love the passion. Because shop life is not meant for the nine to fivers of the world, it is meant for the artists and the dreamers. And I always find that I can check my baggage at the door and just be.
Ellie reminds me of a little pixie, small and slight, and a voice low and light, she is full of sunshine and it is contagious. She is the shop assistant/ apprentice and Jimmy's partner. She offers me tea and makes some small talk and then floats away as I sit waiting for Jimmy to finish up his client. I'm browsing magazines and thinking about my time in Ireland thus far, my thoughts are scattered because it feels too overwhelming to process but what I come back to is that its is all so much more than a girl like me could have ever hoped for.
Jimmy is silent and solid. He smiles every now and then, just slightly but enough for me to know that he is pleased with his work. As I watch the ink come to life, it as if with each stroke, Ireland bleeds into my skin, deeper still. When he is finished he asks me in his low Bulgarian accent if I like it and all I can do is nod my head because if I open my mouth, I know that there will be no coherent words. Eventually I find enough words to say thank you. And on a journey where I am desperate to freeze every moment, I ask in a small voice if he might take a picture with me and he laughs and we snap a photo and I say goodbye.
After a very brief tour of the English Market, I grab a quick lunch and walk back to the River Lee. My body is reminding me that I need to slow down. But I don't want to miss it, whatever that is, I don't want to miss it and so I push back at myself with as much as I can- I am thinking through all of the things that I dreamt of the most and I know that the day is fading and so I rally myself for one more adventure and take a walk to Daly's Bridge, otherwise known as the Shaky Bridge- It is an old steel and wood suspension bridge that crosses the River Lee. I walk through Cork neighborhoods, past Fitzgerald's Park and finally in the distance, I see the white gleam of the old painted steel- I walk slowly, every step, careful, methodical even because I just want to breathe it into me.
I walk the expanse of the bridge. I pause every now and then and close my eyes and feel the air. I watch the river and trace the clouds. I hold it softly in my heart as I walk away, feeling both heavy and light.
Making my way back to The River Lee, I walk through Fitzgerald's Park. I am so tired. And so I sit down on a bench. Funny, but I can't remember the last time I just sat on a bench in the park on a Fall day. Maybe it's the quiet in me, or the slow beat of my heart, or the tired in my bones, whatever it is, it is enough for me to notice. And I find myself in this moment where I notice it, life happening around me but what I gravitate towards is the way that the wind moves through the trees. It is so achingly beautiful.
Have you ever watched the way a leaf falls from a tree, bent in the wind, how it leans into the fall, gentle, and fluid, grace upon grace. I watch that dance, memorize it, tuck it inside of myself so that years from now, I might recall it in a dream, that grace, on this day, in this moment, in this city, I grab at it with my fragile hands and hold it close as I make my way back home.
I am sitting on the River Lee terrace, drinking tea and eating chocolate cake for dinner just because I can, when Seona, my favorite person at the terrace comes and hugs me and asks about my day. And I tell her about it. Seona has been an angel, she's made me feel as though I belong, and her company has been an absolute godsend- as we chat, I ask her if we might take a photo and we do.
And as I walk back to my room, I feel the wetness on my cheeks, I didn't even know that I had started crying- but it's okay because it's not quite sadness, it's bittersweet, it's joy, it's hope, it's being able to look at this road that I am on and say to myself that I am right where I am meant to be.
And as I fold myself into the night, I think of those trees, and their grace, and I fall asleep and dream of fields of gold...
Jillian Nichole, walking in fields of gold...
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