Dancing with the Stones

What constitutes a man’s creation? What does he leave behind?

We were only going to Columcille to film the stones, to pull focus the expression is, to practice shifting the visual narrative within the story as film makers do, helping the viewer see as we see in life to match our own depth of field, the optics of our own eyes. William, Bill’s son, was first to emerge that early morning from the fog, with his dogs. Our conversation was deep quickly because the place itself leads you there, peacefully dispensing with the frivolous and immersing visitors in a purposely different field of energy.

Bill made his way down to us as we worked. It took little time for us to realize the man who set these stones was the story. We hear, we look, we see, we study, we laugh, we engage and attempt to understand. In Bill Cohea’s language, we dance.

Two years later, as Bill lay in the hospital, on our visit we streamed the movie on his phone. Bill laughed, nodding in confirmation. Bill was able to realize the vision of the second part of his life, the place he named Columcille. Seeing the film again clearly put his mind at rest regarding his accomplishment, and at that moment a second, deeper reason revealed itself as to why we made the film.