The art of conversation
As we walked through the city today, Eamonn and I discussed various forms we had used in the past: drawing and writing with chalk; carrying a blackboard bearing a word or phrase; dressing up and doing walkabout; singing; following a movement score; creating junk sculptures; creating images with newspaper; painting on derelict walls; invisible theatre; whistling; carrying unlikely objects or common objects in unusual ways.
During our perambulations Eamonn purchased a pair of heavy shoes - we carried them between us in a plastic bag, one to each handle. We had been discussing minimal actions which would signal an abnormal behavior. This seemed a to be a good example.
We discussed everyday street activities which could be used as a form of performance, and tomorrow will practice one of them: pushing a pram.
Today we simply had conversations with people: friends, strangers, shop workers and each other eg. in pricing the cost of a pram in the Cancer Charity Shop we had a conversation with each other about the inappropriateness of haggling over the price of a pram at a time like this. Eamonn wanted "the child" to experience from the very start a sense of material economy. In the Red Cross charity shop having bought a small picture frame, we discussed with one of the workers the potential photograph portrait to be mounted therein. Would it be that elderly person whom we fail to recognize as ourselves? She and I shared the experience of being in a roomful of people of our own age and feeling that we didn't belong.
I think the art of conversation requires a person to be really interested in the other. The interest may stem from genuine altruistic empathy, or from selfish self-interest : "how can I use or profit from or take advantage of this person?" being the motive. In either case the interlocutor can be skilled in the Art of Conversation.
Hi there Patsy what's the craic?
Are you goin' or coming back?
The weather's cat but that's no matter,
As long as the chippie still has batter.
There's nothing like a battered cod,
Aren't vegetarians terribly odd?
My sister's one and so's her daughter,
I suppose it saves the lambs from slaughter.
Wool on sheep must keep them warm,
Its while hard work to keep a farm.
Keeping my teeth in is enough to do,
You'd think they'd make a special glue.
Fixodent is worth a try,
But one soft toffee and out they fly.
How's the job, are you still on nights?
I hear you've got to buy your tights.
You would think that they'd supply your needs,
But its all for profit, gain and greed.
Still, you're lucky to have a full time job,
Most are temporary, its no wonder they dob.
Its been nice to chat and have some craic
I've to hurry now or I won't get back.
I've really enjoyed our conversation,
I'll hear your news on the next occasion,
You'd better wake up or you'll miss your bus,
I've done that often and Oh such a fuss,
They make at home when I do arrive;
You'd think I'd been purposely on the skive,
Instead of just talking with friends that I meet
On the way from here to there in the street.
