I was living in Manhattan, New York, rehearsing for Sing Street on Broadway, when Covid shutdown hit. The next thing I knew, I was moving back to my parents’ house in Tyrone. I can’t think of a bigger contrast. It was mad.
The good thing about it is that they live in the deep, deep countryside, so it was almost like Covid didn’t exist. I just walked about in my pyjamas chatting to cows and writing poetry. I fancied myself like Cathy from Wuthering Heights. I would look out into the distant views feeling sorry for myself, imagining an epic soundtrack in my head, with my hair blowing in the wind, pretending I was in an interesting film or novel. I wasn’t.
For the first, I would say, five months I did nothing. In October, I moved back to Dublin to become a 25-year-old again. I was ready to live with people my own age and maybe get myself a job in a cafe or something. I remember walking around in the rain with my C.V.s claiming that I had experience in barista work. I was turned away from at least twenty cafes and I remember just laughing my head off.
One minute you’re living your best life on Broadway, looking up at all the huge skyscrapers eating a fresh hot bagel, the next you’re walking down Talbot Street with a soaking wet CV, looking for a coffee shop job while eating a meal deal from Tesco. The contrast couldn’t be greater.
It’s such a welcome relief to be back working as an actor again. I’m deep in rehearsals for Decadent Theatre Company’s production of There Are Little Kingdoms by the brilliant Kevin Barry. We open in Galway’s Town Hall Theatre on September 1st and I’m thrilled to be finally be back on stage in front of a live audience.
Read more in an article in The Galway Advertiser