‘A blue moon traditionally marks a time of change and possibility in the astrological world. The blue moon is the first since August 31, 2012, and won’t be seen again until January 31, 2018.’
It won’t be blue, however. The Blue bit refers to the fact that there will be two full moons this month, this lunar month; a phenomenon, and we like those. For the star-friendly among us, it denotes a time of change, of possibility. We say that something happens ‘once, in a blue moon,’ as we refer to the rarity of an event. We, on the island, might struggle to see any moon at all through a closed and soggy sky, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t going on beyond our vision.
Although I usually avoid anything political or strug-mental (my word) inside my blogs, there is a time for every season, one of which is to be counted, to stand tall for something I believe in. Okay, I’m not so tall, not so important that my little stand can change circumstances, but perhaps, by becoming one of a crowd of ‘standers’ I can make a difference.
On the island, no business, no charity can survive without extra oomph. That old ferry boat divides us from access to all the instant supports you mainlanders take for granted. Every one of us has to work that bit harder, that bit longer, our wits and ideas our lifelines. Tourists come in the Summer months, in the main, although a friendly Autumn or Spring can bring stout-footed walkers and hikers, lycra-clad cyclists to pump their calves into balloons as they rise and descend our endless hills and valleys, eagle-nest watchers and so on.
So, the work we think about all winter long is distilled into a powerful action once the snowdrops begin to show and what should pass for Spring (but forgot this year) lifts the sun a centimetre or two higher in our skies, to illuminate the snow patches, many of which have only just thawed.
One of these worthy and high-profile attractions is our theatre and arts centre, Comar. I remember, and many of you will too, watching excellent theatre in the barn in this village, where the idea was birthed and delivered to the world. The Smallest Theatre In The World. It attracted thousands of thespians and the excellence of this theatre spread far and wide.
Nowadays, it is bigger business, grown from that tiny seed and tended and loved and fed and watered by those whose passion for theatre, music, dance and art led them to invest themselves completely in its development. Today, amongst its ranks, chaos reigns. It seems that some now consider it not an island thing anymore and, in their eagerness to make money, have removed the control of it from the very hands, the talented and caring hands of two men whose life revolved around little else, such is their passion. Being made redundant is not fun for anyone, but on an island it is tough indeed. Jobs are few and there are many more months without visitors than with.
I am not able, nor willing to state accurate facts about this situation, but the press is doing a good job thus far. You can read it for yourselves.
What I can do is stand beside these island folk, and I am and I will. Too often we overthink ourselves into stillness, watching precious moments pass us by because we feel the fear of challenging the bully and we logic ourselves back home where life is safe enough, where we can pretend everything is okay.
Theatre and art and music and dance are quite without logic, and all about emotion, about passion, about the red blood of who we are. The island is like no other place.
Once, in a Blue Moon, we must stand and be counted.