The Tales of Two Writers

Any Galwegians Want to Volunteer?

2011-11-13T17:00:00.000Z

I am part of the Galway Science and Technology Festival committee this year and just thought I'd mention that the festival is looking for volunteers for the Exhibition Day which takes place at NUI Galway on Sunday November 27.

The organising committee and NUI Galway are looking for 100 volunteers to help out on the day when hundreds of scientists, engineers and business innovators will showcase their work at 60 interactive stands.

Visitors to the exhibition will be able to participate in experiments, watch demonstrations, and discuss ideas with researchers from NUI Galway and GMIT, as well as industry representatives from the festival’s main sponsor Medtronic and others such as Boston Scientific, CISCO, Hewlett Packard, Avaya, Covidien, SAP, Lake Region and Creganna.

Different exhibits will allow the public to learn more about topics such as life-saving medical devices, renewable energy, IT in the future, and kitchen chemistry. NUI Galway’s museums will all be open on the day, and the popular 3D tour of the universe makes a welcome return.

Dean of Science at NUI Galway, Professor Tom Sherry, says the college is delighted to host the exhibition for the second year in a row.

“ Last year’s event was a huge success, “ he says, “and this year we have been working hard to improve dealing with the large numbers of visitors we are expecting. For this purpose, we are inviting anyone who is interested to volunteer some of their time on the 27th to help us get people around to all of the different activities that will be spread across the NUI Galway campus.”

A science and technology background is not required to volunteer as information and training will be given in advance of the event. To sign up for volunteering please contact william.brennan@nuigalway.ie . For general information on the festival seewww.galwayscience.ie and to prebook the shows for the exhibition visit www.galwayscience.eventbrite.com

You can follow the above links to see more about he festival. The exhibition day is free for all and is a fun, family-oriented event. Check out the cool shows that are on and book your place now because it gets crowded. Fast.

Sadie and Loki

2011-11-05T17:00:00.000Z

Remember Sadie and Loki, those cute little kittens? Well they're getting bigger and stronger.

But...they still think they're kitten-sized!

Twitter Saves a Bookstore

2011-11-02T17:00:00.000Z

Well not Twitter exactly, but back to that in a minute.

I'm part of a group called ItStartsWith.Us. The goal of ItStartsWith.Us is "to build a global community of individuals focused on making a positive impact in the lives of the people around them." And it takes just 15 minutes a week. This week the mission is to take that 15 minutes to help promote someone or a cause. It was inspired by a video about how a dedicated son, a blog post, a tweet, and a promise of free burritos saved a bookstore.

When I saw the video I knew I had to share it, so here it is.

Last Monday there was more flooding here in Ireland. We had some really bad flooding in late 2009 and after the earthquake in Haiti (early 2010) there was a huge outcry that we had helped over there but hadn't helped our flood victims. This time let's do more: The Irish Red Cross is running a Floods Appeal until the 26th November.

Donal Forde, Secretary General of Irish Red Cross said “Donations received will be used to support those whose homes have been damaged by flood water caused by Monday’s record rainfall. We will work closely with the Community Welfare Service within the Department of Social Protection to identify those most in need of our assistance”.

Anyone wishing to donate to the Irish Red Cross ‘Irish Floods’ appeal can do so online; by phone: 1850 50 70 70; or by cheque made out to ‘Irish Red Cross’ and marked ‘Irish Floods’ and sent to Irish Red Cross, 16 Merrion Square, Dublin 2.

And the Winners...Aren't

2011-10-24T17:00:00.000+01:00

On my last post a commenter asked how I manage to win so many competitions.

I replied that you have to enter to win, which is a bit of a disappointment. I mean that's kind of obvious, isn't it? Still, people often overlook it. How can I be jealous of people for getting published in this magazine and that when I haven't even submitted? I can't. Not reasonably anyway.

That said, this is my blog. So obviously everything is a bit one-sided and biased. For example, let's see how many times I've posted about not winning/placing in a competition....

Not once.
(small margin of error here - I might possibly have posted once or twice)

So this post is about all the competitions I haven't won (kind of a difficult feat considering I like to block out these rejections of my work, but I'll work from what I do remember).

Firstly: Foyle Young Poets Competition. I entered in 2010 and 2011 and I did not receive a thing - not even a special mention. Then there's my story Wizened, which I really like. I entered a fantasy writing contest with it and got...nothing. Then a special secondary-schools story competition in the Clare Champion with the same story. Once again, nothing.

Those are the reasons I then decided to focus on my poetry. Even so, I didn't get a thing in Cuisle this year. You can submit up to three poems and I submitted three. None on par with Creation and Evolution I guess.

That's all I can remember off-hand that I have entered but haven't won. Like I said, my mind blocks out losing.

P.S. Lovely bit of graffiti, that, isn't it? These pictures were part of the final result of a photography course we took in school.

And the Winners Are...

2011-10-14T17:00:00.000+01:00

I didn't mention it here, but Visit Woods and the WWF were running a short story competition called the Big Forest Story Picnic. The theme was to be about the forest and the woods, and simply to do with conservation I suppose. I forget the exact parameters if there were any. Anyway, the winners have finally been choosen after a month's extension on the announcement date. And, I have won the sixteen and under section. See below :)

http://visitwoods.org.uk/en/visit-woods/news/Pages/big-forest-picnic-story-winners.aspx#.TpddCpuImU8

I win free books. If I had one the older age category it would have been a Kindle, but I suppose I will have to live with ten books of my choice. Heehee...

In addition, you might recall a competition I did mention here, which was the Concern Creative Writing Competition. I have been told recently that my entry (short-listed as I found out) is to be included in the Concern Creative Writing Competition book, which will be published by Liffey Press. Last year I got nothing, so as you can see I am slowly scaling the steps to the top.

Roll of Thunder Hear My Cry vs. To Kill a Mockingbird

2011-09-16T17:00:00.000+01:00

I was reading the best-seller list in the Sunday paper last week. Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry and To Kill a Mockingbird were both on it. Roll of Thunder was under Children's and To Kill a Mockingbird was under Paperback Fiction. It seems schools in general are pretty much split between the two. Oh, there are other novels that are chosen (Lord of the Flies and Of Mice and Men, for example) but it is these two that made the best-seller list. These that parents all over Ireland rushed out to buy in their droves the last weeks of August and the first few weeks of September.

The list-fellows of To Kill a Mockingbird are: One Day (David Nicholls, the film is now playing in cinemas), The Help (Kathryn Stockett, also now a film, release date 28 October), The Confession (John Grisham), and Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow (chick-lit by Claudia Carroll). Altogether a broad range of titles (also not in order).

Roll of Thunder, by contrast, has not one but two Diary of a Wimpy Kids as list-fellows. Need I say more?

Introducing Sadie and Loki

2011-08-26T17:00:00.000+01:00

They may belong to the next-door neighbours but they seem to like us. And we like them, so meet Loki...

and Sadie.

As you'll have noticed, I changed the blog header photo again. It was MM's idea actually. If you want to see the whole evolution of my blog header photos, here you go.

Cuisle Time Again

2011-08-22T17:00:00.000+01:00

Believe it or not, it's Cuisle time again! Seems like it was only - a year ago that I was entering last year's competition. Oh wait, it was a year ago!
Anyway, if you're under eighteen, I would strongly suggest entering. I mean, how many other poetry competitions give out trophies? Trophies.
The details are below.

Limerick City International Poetry Festival 12-15 Oct 2011
YOUNG POET OF THE YEAR COMPETITION

Cuisle Young Poet of the Year Competition would like you to write a poem or three poems. This or these Poems can be about anything, anything that matters to you, things that happen in your life: special occasions or everyday events.

This competition is promoted by Cuisle, Limerick City International Poetry Festival. Winners will be invited to read during our festival in October and prizes will be awarded at a special award ceremony.

Start writing now! Send us your poems. We look forward to reading them.

RULES OF COMPETITION

• Entries for Cuisle Young Poet of the Year Competition 2011 may be on any subject and not more than 30 lines.
• Entries are invited in 3 CATEGORIES:
Category 1: Poets aged 8-12: under 12 on 1st September 2011
Category 2: Poets aged 12-15: under 15 on 1st September 2011
Category 3: Poets aged 15-18: under 18 on 1st September 2011
• Entries are welcomed in both Irish and English.
• Entries should be submitted typewritten on A4 pages.
• The name and address of the poet must NOT appear on the manuscript.
• Entrants may submit up to 3 poems, EACH with a completed Entry Form.
• Poems must be submitted by 14th September, 2011 at the latest.
• Each entry must be the original work of the poet, must not have been published or broadcast previously nor already submitted elsewhere for publication. Entries will not be returned.
• Entries must be submitted by post to:
Cuisle Young Poet of the Year Competition
Arts Office
Limerick City Council
City Hall
Merchant’s Quay
Limerick
• Entries will not be accepted by email.
• Please mark envelope(s) Cuisle Young Poet of the Year Competition.

• Prizes will be awarded in each category.
• Winners will be notified in October, 2011.
• Winners will be announced at the Cuisle International Poetry Festival 12-15 October 2011, and will be invited to take part in a special Cuisle Awards Ceremony in Limerick.

For further information on any of the events contact:
Competition Co-ordinator: Bertha McCullagh. Tel: 085 7593265
The Arts Office: Tel. 061 407363

Entry forms may be downloaded from www.limerickcity.ie or www.meta.ie (here is a link to a printable pdf entry form - the details are also on the pdf)

Entry forms also available from Schools, Colleges, Libraries and Belltable Arts Centre at Limerick Tourist Information Office: tel. 061319866.
Information and Application forms also on Poetry Ireland website www.poetryireland.ie/resources/competitions.php

For more information on the Cuisle Festival, the link is here.
For older poets, The Stony Thursday Book, a Limerick based poetry magazine, will also be published as part of the festival, but unfortunately submissions closed on the 12th of August. There is always next year however.

Kerry Trip

2011-08-20T17:00:00.001+01:00

1. Cromwell's Bridge, Kenmare. Oliver Cromwell never came to Kerry and the name is more likely from croimeal, Irish for moustache.

2. The Dursey Island cable car - the only cable car in Ireland. We happened to take it on a windy rainy stormy day. A bird flew under us, over the dangerous currents of Dursey Sound. We didn't get a chance to explore the island, as we got saturated almost as soon as we exited the cable car and decided to return immediately.

3. The release of ten white-tailed eagles as part of the re-introduction of Ireland's disappeared winged predators. These were only one year old. Their white tails don't appear until they are three or four, and they don't mate until they are about five. In the space of four or five years however, poison and wind turbines take their toll. So we hope these survive to have little baby eagles of their own. A further thirteen were released the week after we returned.

4. Carrauntoohil, Ireland's highest mountain (which is only 1039m).

5. Uragh stone circle: the biggest monolith is 3m high and the circle has a diameter of eight feet.

6. The Glanmore River and Lake.

7. Anemones and starfish in a sea-cave.

Poets Meet Painters Launch

2011-08-16T17:00:00.000+01:00

Photo from anaduncan.com

This is the sculpture 'Crest' by Ana Duncan. It is what inspired my poem 'Fishing,' which won first prize in the schools section of the Millcove Gallery Poets Meet Painters competition. That and my experience of fishing from a boat instead of a pier for the first time a couple years ago.
I noticed that a lot of the short-list and winners had drawn on their own experiences and memories for their poem but yet had a clear link to the artwork they were inspired by. I think the artwork more inspired reflection and thought on the poets' own experiences than created a new scenario in the poets' minds, which is what I had imagined would happen. But then, the relating of our own thoughts, experiences, and memories is rather the definition of poetry.
The launch of the Poets Meet Painters anthology was a nice event. It was raining, unfortunately, but most of the audience was covered by the tent that was set up outside. Copies of the anthology, water, and wine all seemed to sell very fast. Amazingly enough, everyone was there on time, even early, which the gallery didn't expect. And small wonder, with the Irish sense of time!
What I found most interesting was that the artists of the pieces were there. Last year only a few were in attendance. Ana Duncan said that 'Crest,' and her series of similar works were inspired by the struggle between man and the sea. I found it interesting how I managed to pick up on that with my poem, which details a fishing trip out on the sea. Most of the artists were able to reveal that they had been inspired by similar themes to those that inspired the poets.
This competition and event is growing fast people. I suggest you get writing for next year's competition!

To see more of Ana Duncan's work, her website is here.
For details of the winners, photos, and to purchase the Poets Meet Painters anthology for a measly fiver plus postage, the Hungry Hill Writing Website is here.

'The Winter of Our Discontent' Book Review

2011-08-13T17:00:00.000+01:00

I found this book hard to get through, for a while at least. It didn't seem to draw me in like the rest of Steinbeck's books do. It took about half of the book to get me really involved. The sometimes first person narrative threw me a little, I must admit. The story was good though. I thought it was a little...older in feeling than the others I have read, but it makes sense as it was his last novel.

From the blurb: Ethan Allen Hawley's family has come down in the world. His father's people were prosperous ship-owner sin New Baytown, but Ethan is a clerk in a grocery store...One day the seed of a chance incident blossoms into a fantastic resolution in Ethan's mind. Why shouldn't the mouse sharpen his teeth and join the rat-race? Why shouldn't the honest man use the very quality of steel that has made him honest to cut his way through the competitive jungle? Ethan is armed for his pirate project not only with his reputation but with a great deal of inside knowledge about his customers, the citizens of New Baytown. The winter of our discontent appears to have turned to glorious summer. But though he has proved several superficial truths,he has forgotten a fundamental one: dishonesty is invisibly infectious.
I think the way I read this, in between a myriad of other books, contributed to me not liking it as much as Steinbeck's other novels. I love reading Steinbeck because he is refreshing, and for this book, like the blurb says "he has put his finger on the pulse of a small town." Steinbeck is an expert at showing that though people appear different on the surface, thoughts, feeling, impulses, and urges are the same within.
The Winter of Our Discontent was darker, I thought, than a lot of his earlier work. I enjoyed reading it. As always the characterisation was superb, and New Baytown was described in intricate detail. The plot was more in evidence than in some of his other work, and it was overall an engrossing novel.

I give it:

Plot: ***

Characters: *****

Voice: ***

Originality: ***

Dialogue: *****

Which means... four stars

Amazon listing here.

The Meeting of the Waters, Killarney

2011-08-11T17:00:00.000+01:00

We returned from Kerry last Friday. Along with the Poets Meet Painters launch and award ceremony, we managed to squeeze a lot in.

This is a postcard from 1917. The scene depicted is the Meeting of the Waters, near Killarney. I thought it would be interesting to see what it looks like today (and take a photo of course). We stopped off and took a short fifteen-minute walk or there about to the Meeting of the Waters (The Meeting of the Waters is the point where the Upper, Middle (Muckross lake) and Lower (Lough Leane) lakes meet).

It was like foggy memory. There was that recognition and déjà vu of an unexplainably familiar place but the knowledge that I had seen it in a picture and had just never seen it in person. Of course there was also relief that it looked, well, exactly the same. Sure there were changes, the bushes had grown somewhat in the intervening (almost) one hundred years. The boat that passed under the bridge was a motor boat with people hooked into orange life-vests, instead of the row boat on the postcard. There was the fact that the path was right in front of the toilets and the bridge had been "restored" in 2007. But overall there was definitely a sense of continuity.

Olive writes that they came under the bridge (Old Weir Bridge) during her trip on the lakes and had seen deer along the banks. I witnessed a boat making the same journey and I have stood in the National Park listening to the deer. Killarney and its surrounds have been inhabited for 4,000 years. In 1750 Viscount Kenmare built roads, boating facilities, and inns. Queen Victoria visited in 1861 with her entourage and the first Irish National Park was formed in 1932.

Killarney may have become a huge tumour of hotels and resorts since then but buried underneath its essence is still there. It has a long past that is still tangible. And it has a future.

Sky Lantern

2011-06-27T13:21:00.000+01:00

We belatedly celebrated the solstice and the end of my exams the other night with one of these sky lanterns. They are cool, rising like miniature hot air balloons. Well, maybe not too miniature, this one was pretty big! They are cheap too, and relatively easy to light and send off. Ours rose fast, even on a night with little wind, so it's probably best to let them off on a windless evening.

I'm currently in the process of moving my WordPress photography blog over to blogger. It's a lot of work, but hopefully when I'm finished it will end up many times easier to navigate (for me and for readers).

We will be heading down to Cork and Kerry and the Millcove Gallery for the Poets Meet Painters award ceremony/publication launch on the 30th of July. We are hoping to spend a week down there hiking in the National Park and exploring the area.

'Siberia' Book Review

2011-06-23T12:00:00.000+01:00

'Siberia,' by Ann Halam, is an intriguing book. It is set in the future, and it only took me until the end of the book to realise that I had read Halam before, in the equally thrilling 'Dr Franklin's Island.' One of the things that I like most about her books is that, though they show a bleak and sometimes depressing world, they end rather happily. Enough to make the reader believe there is hope for the world she has created.

From the blurb: When Rosita was tiny...she and her mama had to go and live in an ugly place...a prison camp...she didn't understand her mama's magic...She only knew she had to keep the secret until Mama said it was time to start on the great journey...But once Rosita grew up to be a tough, cynical girl called Sloe...Mama was gone. Sloe had to make the journey alone...Sloe becomes a heroine, equal to anything, in this dazzling blend of science, adventure, and fairy tale.
I really enjoyed reading this book. Like the blurb says, it is a mix of science, adventure, and fairy tale. Each element is warped and rearranged to fit with the others but they are no less pure for that. The world as Halam created it was spectacular. I could see everything as though it was before me, and the people fit cleanly into it. It might be true that people will easier believe a big lie than a small one, and that is true here. How odd this book seems, though no less odd than the other I read, but it is...believable. Sloe's love for the tiny animals is real and her adventures as she tries to make it back to her mother are difficult and trying. The other characters are vibrant. I think this was a great book. In fact, I might recommend it on the strength of the note at the end alone.
Halam writes:
The greatest seedbank in the world is held in Lenigrad....In the Second World War...half a million people starved, but the curators of the seedbank barricaded themselves in, and defended their stocks - the hope of the future - from the starving citizens. When Allied soldiers finally entered the facility, they found the emciated bodies of the botanist lying beside full sacks of potatoes, maize and wheat, a priceless genetic legacy for which they had given their lives. This is the story that gave me the idea for Sloe and her adventures...The Siberia I'm talking about in this story is not a place. Siberia is a sate of mind.

I give it:

Plot: *****

Characters: *****

Voice: *****

Originality*****(is six possible here?)

Dialogue: ****

Which means... five stars

Amazon listing here.

Fictitional

2011-06-22T12:00:00.003+01:00

I "learned" a new word today. I was watching a video and the guy in it said, as he tried to sound eloquent and all-knowledgeable, and I quote: 'whether real or fictitional.'

Fictitional. Hmmm. I almost choked on my drink. When I researched it, it seems that it was first coined by Nicholas Wright, a British dramatist. There are many renowned writers who coined words, so maybe fictitional will make an appearance in a dictionary someday soon.

Also, did you know that the definition of 'fortuitous' is simply 'happening by accident or chance,' and doesn't really mean 'by fortunate accident or chance'. However, since it has been "misused" since the 1920s, surely by now it has assumed a new definition?

Summer Solstice

2011-06-21T20:00:00.001+01:00

I feels odd, it being the 21st June already. The longest daylight of the year, and it seems as though it should be the middle of summer when it arrives. Normally it feels that way, but not this year. Have you seen the smart TV ad where they put screens over the windows of the train? The song in it is beautiful and having discovered the artist, have been listening to her music over the past few days. There seem to be a lot of "fan snobs" who get really annoyed at people for discovering new musicians from commercials. That is how I have found almost all of my favourite singers and bands though. I think anything that gets the artist known to more people is a good thing.

Anyway, I give you a lovely little song by the same artist, Vashti Bunyan, perfect for today.

I'm Back

2011-06-20T12:40:00.000+01:00

I am just beginning to relax into the warm bath of summer. Finally free of exam stress and worries, and my creativity is blooming again at long last. Last Friday I threw out (by that I mean recycled) three years' worth of copies and pages and school-related things I no longer require. It was wonderfully liberating. Best of all, I found amongst them so many scribbled pages of words and ideas I had long forgotten. It was a little sad to see how much I used to write, how often I used to just let the ideas flow and forget about making sense and having a plot. But then, now I have so much free time to fill with writing.
Slovenia was absolutely amazing. I only spent about two days there (one full day and two halves), but we did so much, I had such a great time. I cannot express how brilliant it was. Well, I suppose I could try. We ate at a farmhouse and the food was the best I had ever had, and home-made apple juice and meat reared there and lettuce grown there and tomatoes that tasted of sun. And the caves we visited in the only other karst region of the world besides Ireland. And flying over the Adriatic so clear, even from 30,000 feet, and the Alps dappled in snow and wind farms in the Channel and English farmhouses and stepping out into London sunshine (sort of). And driving through Italy and weather so warm while storms raged at home and sitting out under a balcony draped in vines sipping cold water. And the music festival where they played traditional songs and even the teenagers waltzed. Wow. I cannot wait until we go back (sometime...)

Wonderful News

2011-05-13T21:02:00.000+01:00

Cuisle is a word I mention a lot on this blog. The Limerick Poetry Competition in which I won first prize in October 2010. One of my favourite competitions to enter, because I love the award ceremony venue, the illusion of intimacy while still being aware it is high-profile.
Well, just guess what I found out last night. I am going to be reading my poem again next weekend (Saturday I think). In Slovenia!

Now I don't know all the details just yet, but we (MM and I) will likely be flying into Italy and then crossing the border to Slovenia. I will post pictures when I return. I've only been to three countries in my life, two I've lived in and the third, Canada, I walked across the border to (through the relevant security). So this is a wonderful experience that I'm really excited about.

Me and my poetry in Slovenia...

Blog Changes

2011-04-19T12:00:00.022+01:00

As you'll have noticed, I have been making some changes to the blog. I felt it was getting stale and out-dated, and so I gave it a bit of a facelift, hoping to refresh and revive it. The biggest change is the background colour of course, it was black and is now white. I used to be quite enamoured with dark backgrounds but I now feel simpler is better as it is clearer and easier to read.
I also changed the header photo and shuffled the sidebar around a little. There will be some more small changes soon, but I couldn't say what they'll be.

As of late I have been listening to Pagan chants and melodies, something that I have been interested in for a long time. When I was around eleven I had friend who was a Pagan, and Ireland being the way it is, full of Neolithic sites, it makes sense. Of the many worships I have touched the surface of, the worship of nature and her bounty has always felt the most true and natural for me. Not to say that that is Paganism, or that it isn't, just that Pagan music is nice, and I like it.

Don't you sometimes wish there was a hotline to the muse?

2011-03-26T13:42:00.000Z

Do you ever notice that sometimes you wait for inspiration and it strikes you at exactly the wrong moment? Sometimes though, it is the perfect moment.
I often find that when I am writing for a competition, I cannot think of anything until right before the deadline. Occasionally this occurs directly after the deadline. I don't have a lot of stories to choose from to enter into competitions so I normally have to write something new.
Lately I have been waiting for inspiration for a certain competition. I had known about it for months and it has three themes. I eventually chose one and brainstormed. After a few weeks, I knew exactly what I wanted to say. I just couldn't see how to frame it. Then suddenly last week as I rode home on the bus in the scorching heat with no ventilation, it hit me. I knew exactly how I would begin it.
On Thursday I wrote the first 300 words. I stopped at a point I knew I could continue from. This morning I finished it. I am very proud of it. It is the first time I have written this way, with a plan and an idea of how things would go already set down. It was an interesting experience, and one that I liked.
Now I have just over 30 hours to edit it. :)

Incidentally I entered the competition last year also and my entry then was absolutely horrid. At the time I liked it but now I can see that it was nothing to be proud of. I directly contradicted myself in it. I think, or at least hope, that this one is different. The winner gets a net-book, second place a kindle e-reader, third place an MP3 player. Not bad, eh?
It's actually an article, not a short story, that you have to write but it's open globally to all ages so if you are interested, here is the link.

Happy Saint Patrick's Day!

2011-03-17T19:47:00.000Z

I went to the Parade in Galway today with my friends. If you were watching it in Eyre Square and were one of the many people who weren't cheering, shame on you. If you heard a few girls screaming and cheering for every bit of the parade, that was probably us.
This was the first time I was actually in town on St Paddy's Day. It was very festive and there were lots of Italian, French, and American people. Good fun but exhausting.

Cavan Crystal Competition and Google Calendar

2011-02-25T15:40:00.001Z

I've been trying to keep track of upcoming competitions etcetera for my writing, and this week I have managed to send out a piece or two.
I decided to use Google calendar to keep tack of all the deadlines as I don't have a calendar in my room any more. Only today I found out that it emails you on the day of the deadline (which I have in the calendar as events). Quite cool and useful. I like it a lot so far as it is easy to scroll through the months as opposed to a physical calendar that you would have to flip through. It is also much less hassle when seeing a competition online to just click over to Google calendar as opposed to running into the other room, finding a pen...
It will soon be time for the Cavan Crystal/Windows Publications 19th National Student Poetry Competition. What a mouthful. Last year I was short-listed or long-listed or something; it was all very confusing. (Edit: June 20 2011) This year I was highly commended (again, I suppose). There were over 1400 entries and I came in the top 80, which means about the top six percent.
The link is there is you are living in Ireland and under eighteen. Last year there was an adult competition but I guess that isn't on this year. The deadline is March 31st (put in 32nd there for a minute).

English, Mid-Term, and Kate Bush

2011-02-21T17:34:00.001Z

I started a post more than a week ago but never got around to finishing it. Last week I was doing mock exams which were stupidly stressful considering they are mocks for an exam that is comparatively unimportant in itself. English was our first exam and we had two and a half hours for paper one (which took me two hours twenty-five minutes) and two hours for paper two.
It was long but not particularly difficult. Despite the fact that I am good at English, I don't really like it. It's mostly the structure of the classes and the material we are forced to ingest that is unfavourable but luckily (to the best of my knowledge) the teacher feels similarly. Irish secondary school teachers have to teach us for the exams, not for the sake of education.

Last time I was at the library the librarian (who is extremely nice) offered me this biography of Kate Bush, which I ended up getting. Seeing the futility of reading it if I had never heard her music, I have been listening to her songs this weekend. MM likes her and has one of her CDs which is cool for me. I like 'Wuthering Heights' and 'Army Dreamers' but she has sung lots of songs. I get the impression I'm still only skimming the surface.

Although I'm only in the first chapter of the book so far her life sounds really interesting and her childhood home - a 350 year old farmhouse in London - the stuff of dreams. Another interesting thing was that her childhood friends were surprised that she grew into such a phenomenon as they really didn't see it coming at all, which seems almost unbelievable but I do often wonder what my friends will become and with most I am uncertain.

The sound of her songs does sort of remind me of the film Sweeney Todd though.

Evening

2011-01-30T17:23:00.001Z

Yesterday morning I saw a satellite that for a minute I thought was a plane and I thought...
Orion is my favourite constellation
and Venus was bright in the sky tonight
but there are still clouds that hide the moon
even when it shines full and bright
and when the sky looks empty,
there are still people up there,
and even if we are alone in the galaxy,
some of us will still be scared,
the moon you see is the same one they do
and the man or the rabbit is just an illusion
even science can't explain everything,
sometimes it's all confusion.

One Single Impression

Sign

2011-01-27T20:50:00.001Z

So I finally have a minute of time so I decided to say: I am still here.
It even seems hopeful that Sunday will be creatively fruitful.
In the meantime...
This is an interesting sign.

2011-01-11T21:29:00.000Z

Back to school after a nice but chaotic break although holidays are usually supposed to make you more relaxed rather than less but anyway work seems to be and have been piling up so I will probably be hibernating in a little cave somewhere 'out there' until sometime next week if not later. Too bad.

Christmas Round-Up

2010-12-27T22:44:00.001Z

This Christmas was lovely and family-orientated. Among the gifts I received was a book entitled Abandoned Mansions of Ireland, by Tarquin Blake. I saw the author featured on Nationwide and asked for the book. I never expected it to be so amazing! The photos showed heart-wrenching desolation. To see the hallways where Austen-esque ladies and lords strode now in utter ruin and left to crumble until all that remains is rubble was extremely saddening.
Below is my favourite photo of the book:

The reason I find it so striking is the bath that has not quite fallen, still clinging to the floorboards, reluctant to part with a memory of water.

Another photo that is sad is actually two. The first is an old photograph of how the house once looked, the second of how it looks now. It shocked me when I turned the page.

The last photo is two as well but on the same page. It's a dance hall. You can see an old photo of dancers posed in front of that lovely circular window and to the top left, what that dance hall is now.

I would recommend the book to basically everyone. Whether you love old castles, Jane Austen, writing inspiration, reading cool old legends, local history, or the seventeenth to twentieth centuries, I really think you will love this book. I have already had many ideas for stories/poems from it. Tarquin Blake can be found at his website, Abandoned Ireland.com, and there you will find even more old country homes with impressive 360 virtual reality photos.

I also received two books of Wordsworth's poetry and one of Yeats's. I have been reading them lately and, funnily enough, Abandoned Mansions of Ireland has a Yeats quote on page one.
Below is our small but impressive Christmas bush.

What I Believe About Christmas

2010-12-24T16:27:00.000Z

I always liked the story of Jesus as one of many other interesting stories I became familiar with as a young child. I never singled it out as a story of a divine being or a superhuman man but just as a story that could still inspire and awe like so many others that were neither biblical nor religious.
For me Christmas is important because of the sense of community. Any single person can chose to give gifts or donate to charity or decorate a tree at any time in the year but the knowledge that so many others are doing the same thing at the same time is very powerful and it's like an inside joke that you can see reflected in everyone you meet on the street.
Personally I feel it is unfair to celebrate Jesus' birth on the 25th of December as it prevents people who don't believe in the Christian tradition from joining in in the same way as Christians. I think that Christmas should remain a holiday that nearly everyone celebrates in order to spend time with family and give gifts to loved ones.
The significance of Jesus' birth has already been totally overshadowed by consumerism and the "true meaning" of Christmas is never the same. So why not celebrate Jesus' birth when time can be devoted to just that celebration and not combine Santa Claus with the birth of the saviour?
Christmas is confusing (no matter what you believe) because there is no set of directions for celebrating it, or rather there are just too many sets of directions. I'm not trying to add my own set of directions, just saying what I think about Christmas. You'll notice it's different from what you think and from what your friend thinks, but the two of you don't think the same thing either. The point is, don't try to tell someone how to celebrate or what to celebrate on the 25 December because you can never get it right.

Two Christmas Videos For You:
The Digital Story of the Nativity
Advent Conspiracy

New Pens!!

2010-12-21T20:57:00.000Z

I was happy to wheedle MM into buying a set of nice pens for me last Saturday. They were reduced from €10.00 to just €2.50. Check them out:

There are six in total with a selection of refills in three colours for each. The colour is gold and silver, a little less rich than pictured. One of the things I have discovered due to using a fountain pen daily (since early November at least) is that the secret to good handwriting is actually the pen. There is a reason that handwriting from fifty years ago looks so much nicer, and that is pens were nicer fifty years ago. Nowadays pens are like fast food; inexpensive but cheaply constructed. You can get them for convenience but the best are worth paying more for. And you can still find quality goods on sale.

P.S. MM posted again! Actually I copied and pasted from her Writing4all.ie account but she knew I was doing it. If you want to check out more of her writing, she has quite the on-line presence there. I will be trying to get more of it on here in the coming days (first full day off: 24 December) so expect to see some more orange writing.

The Visitors

2010-12-18T21:32:00.002Z

It is I who chooses the time.
It is I determines the place.
All I ask is that you be present.
And whether you be in slumber, or naught,
I take no heed.
My needs are few, my requirements even less.
It is enough for me to encounter icy roads and careless drivers.
What is a slip of the scalpel when your time is nigh.
Or, a misguided drunk.
Accidents happen.
All it takes is a lift of my hand.
Then the sweet rush of air I so willingly ingest on your last exhalation.
I am death.
No appointment necessary.
Ever.

To view on Writng4all.ie click here.

The Messiah

2010-12-17T23:11:00.000Z

Last night we heard Handel's Messiah at Saint Nicholas's Church here in Galway, performed by the Irish Baroque Orchestra and the Resurgam Chamber Choir. It was lacking in something, a certain emotion, but overall good. The venue was gorgeous but the acoustics weren't astounding and, as there were no microphones, at times the soloists were greatly overpowered, especially the bass and alto.
There are many old graves in the church which are very cool. Jane Eyre, who lived in Galway in the middle of the eighteenth century (and happens to share the name of a certain famous but fictional character) is buried there. On top of the elaborate grave is a armless baby which was distressing but obviously relating to the destruction incurred by the Cromwellian forces when they used it as a stable for their horses.
It was a nice night and today it snowed, so the Christmas spirit is beginning to take hold.

Books

2010-12-12T21:15:00.000Z

Between this week and last week I have purchased 26 books at a total cost of €27.65. Before you ask, yes they were all for me. 25 of them were second-hand.
The books I buy second-hand (most are probably at least fourth-hand actually) I buy for two reasons;
1. Well, obviously because I want to read them
2. Or they have a really nice old look about them and/or a cool inscription.

Most of the ones I bought were for the second reason. But that's okay.
One had a crest sticker that said "Fred L.White His book"
One was in French (ooh).
One was inscribed "L.L. Keane Co. Fermanagh Bought in Belfast Feb 28th 1923"
One was inscribed "Frank Hugh O' Donnell Dublin 1925"
A Short History of Science (12-18-45 was inscribed) had a beautiful cover and gorgeous endpapers.
One was inscribed "S.C.H. from E.H.J."
One was a London Atlas previously owned by a lady in Kent
One was inscribed "Mollie Johnston, 21 Perry Place, Dublin, Christmas 1919"
The rest had lovely covers/endpapers/subjects/titles/jackets or something to recommend them.

My friend was with me (the second time I had brought her there). We had been wandering around town for a few hours looking at clothes. We were in the outside part of the bookshop (which is covered from the elements) and I was choosing books.
"You and books are like me and clothes" she said (she was holding my purse and a present I had purchased).
"Mmmm. This one looks cool, but no inscription."
"You know the last time we were here, when we tried to sit on that wall, there was a seat right there all along!"
"Wow, that's weird. I had no idea."
"And we tried to get up and I could but our other friend couldn't and she is so much taller that me."
"I know, that was hilarious! Where are all the good books? Ooh, this is cool."
"You are finally getting something!"
"No, I'm getting that whole pile around the corner too, and this pile I left here."
"Oh..."
"Just three more."
"This pile is almost up to my knee!"
"You can put those down on it if you want."
"No, I'm okay. I want Supermacs though, but my mum said I have to eat my dinner when I get home. Look, there's all these little children eating pizza through that window."
"Awww, I'm sorry, I only need like two more. Why are they hard to find? Ha, imagine you were inside the bookshop and you just saw books moving..."
"You know last time when we were sitting there and you were here? I'm feeling that way again. Boooorrrreed."

So she knows how I feel in some clothes shops...Anyway I finally found all the books I wanted (pretty books), and when I held them at my waist I could just rest my chin on them. Then I paid for them and I carried them (fifteen hard-cover books) in two big bags which I kept hitting her heels with(accidentally)...And yeah, never again because she has no qualms about complaining, that's for sure! (Fair enough, but you don't hear me whining when we are looking at a fifty euro jacket for the fifth time in ten minutes).

What I Want for Christmas

2010-12-08T12:00:00.000Z

1. Abandoned Mansions of Ireland by Tarquin Blake
2.Science & Faith by The Script
3. book of Wordsworth poetry and/or
4. book of Yeats poetry (second-hand is fine if not better)
5. Something old from ebay (like this old coin or these old postcards)
6. Something unexpected
7. Something exciting and unique

I always think a Christmas list should be longer than what you know you will get because then you wonder what you will get from it. And you know you can't get it all so you aren't disappointed when you don't.

Exchanging prezzies with my friends on Friday!!! Yay!

Just a Little Word

2010-12-07T20:43:00.001Z

Sorry I haven't been around. Here is a little laugh from the Galway Advertiser a few months ago.

Below: Cllr Seamus Walsh

Above: Adolf Hitler

I don't see the joke. Is it because they both have polka dot ties? ;)

P.S. The first photo I took of a photo from the Galway Advertiser. The second I did not take at all and do not know who did.

No, This Doesn't Have a Title

2010-11-26T21:36:00.001Z

Yesterday I was feeling terribly down; my friends and I were feeling low and then I got a phone call that was quite depressing, and then a raven landed next to me as I walked down Shop Street.
Today wasn't great but after school I walked to town with my friend and we had a nice talk and then we saw the sweetest little black cat and stroked her (she was silky soft).
Then, about twenty minuets ago DD came inside, opened the curtain, and turned off the light. It was snowing! Not even December yet and it was snowing!
I love snow.

What Makes Red

2010-11-24T20:44:00.000Z

Just a little word to say that I have been busy with school and friends and family...issues (since early October...will I be glad when it all smooths out...if it ever does).
Anyway, long story short, hopefully the new year will bring more posts but I hardly expect much, this school year is an important one for me (not that its importance will make me any more likely to study etc., but...).
So, I will just say one more thing: Yesterday a girl in my Art class asked how to make red paint. As if that isn't silly enough, someone told her to mix yellow and orange.

Snow

2010-11-08T20:43:00.000Z

Oh, one would wish for snow
in a country where it does not fall
one would wish for skidding ice
and even not mind a fall
one would wish for snow-covered scenes
but as for I, I wish for snow not at all

This us a lie actually, I really do wish for snow, it is rare in the west of Ireland.

T

2010-11-07T17:31:00.000Z

tea is a marvellous drink
if made properly at all
and toes are marvellous digits
to help one stand very tall
tops are marvellous things to wear
if one can't afford a shawl
but ten is a marvellous number,
the most marvellous number of all.

Upriver, Uptown

2010-11-06T00:01:00.001Z

sail the boat against the flow
sit in the yard you don't mow
watch the flock of screeching crows
watch the children walking slow
wait for nightfall over snow
wait for wife to cook the dough
listen for the whistle blow
audience laughing at the show
wait for bugs that lose their glow
above the river that is low
think how it was long ago
and cry from the awful woe
the river, the river, is too low
and fireflies have lost their glow.
It's over, don't you know,
when the crops cease to grow.

Wolves

2010-11-04T00:01:00.001Z

Howls break through the mist
the moon is full and grim
claws pad along with fists
in a parade of hairy limbs
Human and wolf coexist

Xenophobia

2010-11-03T22:34:00.000Z

xenophoia is the fear of strangers
you might think that they shout danger
but if you do you are deranged

Yes, I know it's bad. ;)

2010-11-02T20:58:00.001Z

Last night I was up until one reading Jane Eyre (and it was stormy out...so perfect!). Then I arose at six and went to school. From school I went home, did my homework, ate, then right on to NaNoWriMo. I wrote 1711 words in two hours.
Now I am unsure if my typing is rapid due to skill or finger spasms. I suspect the latter.

Yawns are sure to please no one so keep them to yourself
implode your brains to keep them on the shelf
Nothing annoys me more than a yawn not properly suppressed
It never fails to climb the chain from the yawner to the rest
I especially abhor them for a reason very sad,
the act of yawing makes me cry (involuntarily) and that's bad!

Zephyr

2010-11-01T14:57:00.000Z

In autumn you can see breezes softly lifting the leaves from the ground, spinning them in a spiral up and up. Then, just as quickly as the breeze swept in, it is gone and the leaves tumble to the ground again. This happens near buildings, around corners, and sometimes in the middle of a quiet parking lot. No one seems to notice these zephyrs juggling leaves. Autumn is their playground and leaves their swings and slides.
It is not only leaves though. Once I was standing on the second floor of my school and plastic bag floated calmly up, hugging the building until it cleared the roof then leaping away and spinning out into the sky.
There is something about a plastic bag in the wind that captures all the hopes and fears of humanity. We fear environmental destruction and that plastic bag is litter, a suffocation device, not biodegradable, a death sentence. The way it just floats makes it seem like a bird, kin to the air, wonderful, art. It soars like a parachute, a life-saver, a safety, and it falls like a bomb, a missile, a fog.
For the moment it lives as a breathing entity the world hushes. If you stop to watch it, breath slows and noise softens for the moment it lives. Just as quickly as life flung it into the air, death has made it fall.
It echoes us and it is our creation. Does that bag make us feel like gods? For that fleeting moment it is animated and our creation is infallible. But moments are too fleeting, zephyrs blow past in the beat of a heart, the blink of an eye. If you miss its careful tossing of our creations you have missed something profound.

The Curious Case of the Kerrs...NaNoWriMo

2010-11-01T13:13:00.000Z

Inspired by the postcard addressed to Miss Mary Feiertag and the further research on the Kerrs that I did, I have deicided (actually did decide a while ago) to write their story as imagined by me, for NaNoWriMo.

NaNoWriMo is (from nanowrimo.org)...
National Novel Writing Month is a fun, seat-of-your-pants approach to novel writing. Participants begin writing November 1. The goal is to write a 175-page (50,000-word) novel by midnight, November 30.
Valuing enthusiasm and perseverance over painstaking craft, NaNoWriMo is a novel-writing program for everyone who has thought fleetingly about writing a novel but has been scared away by the time and effort involved.
Because of the limited writing window, the ONLY thing that matters in NaNoWriMo is output. It's all about quantity, not quality. The kamikaze approach forces you to lower your expectations, take risks, and write on the fly.

Happy Halloween!

2010-10-31T17:39:00.000Z

Wikipedia: Throughout Ireland and Britain, there is a long tradition of carving lanterns from vegetables, particularly the turnip, mangelwurzel, or swede.
I carved a swede to be true to my Irish roots along with the more traditional North American pumpkin.

Take a Break's Young Fiction Writer of the Year Competition

2010-10-28T13:46:00.002+01:00

In exams, it is common practice to like a poet/poem when asked to give an opinion about it because it is easier then disliking it. If I don't like something I don't want to say I do even if that gets me a better mark. But that's the thing. Surely getting a better mark is better than telling the truth? After all that mark is how you will eventually leave school and get a job and once you are out there it doesn't matter if you "lied" on the exam.
Writing for a market. I get how some writers write different genres and will write one for a women's magazine and another for an anthology. It makes sense. But say there is a competition hosted by a magazine. Do you write the genre the magazine publishes? Fine, you do. But if it really has little to do with the magazine? Like Take a Break's Young Fiction Writer of the Year Competition. Take a Break isn't about young writers. Take a Break also doesn't publish SF/F.
I entered a SF/F story to the competition for two reasons. One, it was one of the I had within the word count and two, I liked it. Better to enter something than nothing. I happen to know that last year's winners all wrote the same kind of stories (mainly), and that those stories were basically what Take a Break publishes. Yet I didn't write a story for the competition. Because that is not how I write. I can recognise and admire people who can and do write for a specific publication, but I prefer to write first and tailor after, instead of following a pattern from the beginning.
I believe I am an artist and as such, instead of making my art so it will be recognised I want people to recognise my art. Do you see the difference? And it seems to work, as long as I don't need to earn money from it.

P.S. I was happy to get in the post a few days ago a certificate from Take a Break. I got a special mention, which is sort of a short-list, below runner-up anyway which is what I got last year.
EDIT: Actually how it works is there is a first prize and two runners-up and then below that is the short-list (last year) and long-list (this year). I got confused by the absence of second and third place.

Sepia Scene #105 and #106

2010-10-27T15:59:00.000+01:00

Somehow I managed to forgo Sepia Scenes last week, so this week I am posting two photos.

The first is the full moon from last week over some houses near the sea at sunset.

The second has two photos. The first is the scene in sepia, but the second is as it was originally. You will notice it sort of had a rusty sepia tone already!

Curiosity

2010-10-24T17:50:00.000+01:00

Curiosity may have killed the cat
and satisfaction brought her back
but curiosity is not a lesson learned
once ignited you can't stop the burn
the flame gets larger, greater, brighter
the burning question needs to be satisfied
The sad truth is that curiosity is infinite
and cats have just nine lives

Sunday Scribblings

I'm In The Newspaper!

2010-10-21T19:21:00.002+01:00

Transcript:

...student crowned Young Poet of the Year
...student Aoife Troxel from...was named the 2010 Young Poet of the Year at the Cuisle Limerick City International Poetry Festival on Saturday.
Aoife's poem in the...category received the prestigious award at the presentations in Daghdha Space in John's Square. She read her poem "Creation and Evolution" aloud at the awards.
Fellow student {Ponygirl} also received a highly commended recognition for her poem "Empty Chairs*" in the...category.
The competition is promoted by Cuisle, Limerick City International Poetry Festival. The contest was judged by Terri Murray, Mark Whelan, and Bertha McCullagh.
Born in Maine, USA, Aoife moved to her mother's native Ireland in 2008.
When not writing poetry or walking the boreens of Connemara, Aoife is happily posting to her blog - twowritersdaily - taking photographs of the Irish countryside...
Aoife also received a first place Certificate of Achievement in the Writer's Forum August 2010 edition and the April 2010 edition, highly commended in the Cavan Crystal 18th National Student & Adult Poetry Competition 2010.
Her poem "At Granny's Funeral" placed first in the Beara Writers' Group Poets Meet Painters publication in West Cork this summer. Her story "My Canal" was short-listed in the Take a Break's Ficiton Young Writer of the Year 2009.
{end}

*Based on the Winston Churchill quote (1918): "The crippled and mutilated soldiers darkened the streets...every cottage had its empty chair. Hatred of the beaten foe, thirst for his just punishment, rushed up from the hearts of deeply injured millions."

There are some horrible editing and grammar mistakes (MM), not to mention it is embarrassing, but I was in the newspaper! The blurs are obviously mine, and they represent residential and school information. If you are very curious, you may move to Galway and pick up a copy of the Connacht Tribune (page 11).

Rules to Live By

2010-10-19T00:01:00.001+01:00

Look, if there's one thing I've learned, it's:

Forgiveness is easier to ask than permission
and never compromise on your opinion
Always do what you think is right
and even if they're wrong don't pick a fight
Apologies are easier than broken friendships
...but only sometimes.

Carry on Tuesday

Champion

2010-10-18T00:01:00.010+01:00

Winning isn't as simple as it seems,
sometimes reality is worse than the dream.
When you win at everything what have you achieved?
If you think you're something special, you have been deceived.

One Single Impression

Sorry to bring up winning again, I'm still on a high. I never ~~brag~~ tell people I know about my success because from a young age I have been good at most things I put my mind too and people have never wanted to hear me happy about doing well when they haven't done well. So, you know, it's nice to share.

Harvest

2010-10-17T11:39:00.001+01:00

Pumpkins potatoes
harvested in wicker with
cucumbers tomatoes

Sunday Scribblings

Cuisle Again Again

2010-10-16T17:19:00.001+01:00

DD being the responsible adult was sure to tell me when I got home that Cuisle called. Not! They did, the night before the award ceremony, with this message: "Aoife won an award."
Oh yes, but what award in particular, she wouldn't say. Was it a highly commended in my category, or third?
No.

Can you read that? It says: Cuisle Young Poet of the Year 2010. Young. Poet. Of. The. Year. That is correct, I won the top award in the competition, not my age category. Out of all the poets aged under eighteen, I won overall.
I suppose you are wondering what poem I used and unfortunately me publishing it here could ruin its success in any other competitions I might enter in the future, so I can't let you see it. However, it is called 'Creation and Evolution' and is about a painter and his painting of a pale blue dot.
Anyway, before you ask, I did know I had won something when I posted yesterday but I thought it would be entertaining to let you think, as I did, that I didn't get a thing only to find out I actually had. Of course I was not expecting to be able to tell you such absolutely outstanding news!
I just want to say three more things. Firstly, what is wrong with the Irish sense of time? In the poetry festival booklet it said that the ceremony was on at twelve and at eleven, in two different places. WTF? DD and I were late because of that. Which made the award all the more surprising.
Secondly, I wanted to thank the organisers and judges for giving all of us young Irish poets a chance to win awards and share our writing. Brilliantly played.
Finally, I wanted to congratulate PonyGirl for also getting an award. She got the same award I received last year so if she follows in my footsteps you heard it here first! Also she was the youngest age in her category and she was in a bit of a witting funk when she wrote the particular poem. Excellent job!

Cuisle Again

2010-10-16T00:01:00.005+01:00

I posted about Cuisle about twelve days ago, if you recall. I pretty much gave up hope. Last year they called the Thursday before the Saturday it took place. When first Wednesday and then Thursday passed with no call, I was extremely disappointed. Considering this poem was at least three times better than the last one in my eyes, it would be only right for them to award it at least the same prize right?
Well, c'est la vie. When I got home there was no message, no prize, no anything... Oh well.

This was post-dated from yesterday night. I will be posting again soon. Enjoy the weekend.

Doesn't Need a Title

2010-10-15T20:23:00.000+01:00

I was going to add this into my last post, but I felt it deserved a post of its own. Due to recent unimaginable drama with both my friends and extended family, I have not been keeping up with things. I have more than an inkling blogging has not been affected as much as say, homework, though.
When I say unimaginable I am referring solely to the extended family thing, the friends thing is...frustrating, saddening, and disappointing, but not abnormal.

Exiled Writers: A Sob Story

2010-10-15T20:17:00.000+01:00

Many writers have written their greatest work sitting at a desk at home or at their office, or even in a café. Some of the greatest however, have written while in exile, far from their cosy desk at home.
For example, Dante. And Aristotle. And also Victor Hugo and Leo Tolstoy.

I was emailed a link by the owner of this site telling me that the readers of my blog could possibly be interested in this article about 5 Famous Exiled Writers (and other articles). I was interested in the article and thought I would share it. Mainly because the email was extremely nice and neither pleading nor threatening and demanding. I get how it is to want more readers for your site and every little helps, so the link for that article is below.

5 Famous Writers That Lived in Exile

Favourite Pen Friday #5

2010-10-15T00:01:00.003+01:00

I also own the counterpart in gold, but after a trip though the wash, it hadn't recovered enough to be on par with this one, or even among the ten.

Sepia Scene #104

2010-10-13T18:17:00.001+01:00

Sepia Scenes

Lonely

2010-10-13T00:01:00.003+01:00

Lonely isn't just solitary
it's a crowd of strangers
and the television droning on
as if you weren't there.

One Single Impression

Pain

2010-10-12T00:01:00.000+01:00

Close your eyes, have no fear
the thorns of life can't touch you here
breathe deep, breathe long
silver birch whitens there
the creaking wooden rocking chair
breathe deep and breathe long
don't worry, it will soon be gone

Carry on Tuesday

Spring Tides

2010-10-11T20:41:00.001+01:00

These illustrate a phenomena known as spring tides. Around the new moon and full moon when the Sun, Moon and Earth form a line (a condition known as syzygy) the tidal force due to the Sun reinforces that due to the Moon. The tide's range is then at its maximum: this is called the spring tide. In English, that means a much higher high tide and much lower low tide. The opposite of this, that is when the tide's range is at its minimum, is a neap tide.

An interesting animation to further explain this is available here.

Friends

2010-10-08T20:24:00.002+01:00

I always thought that one perfect friend would be great. You know, one who shares every interest. It seemed that lots of people had them, and had had them since they were very young. But I guess having lots of friends who each have something in common with you isn't so bad.
I used to want a friend to share every interest but the truth is I have too many varied interests, I think, for it to be likely someone with the same to show up. They might exist somewhere, or have existed sometime, or will exist, but me finding them is unlikely.
So I have lots of friends with different interests and some share more than others. Still, it is most disappointing when someone you admire does not enjoy the same admirable thing that you do. If that makes sense?

Favourite Pen Friday #4

2010-10-08T00:01:00.004+01:00

This pen was purchased by MM for DD last Christmas. At that time, she was working in Athlone, and that is where the particular shop and artisan are located. The pen is made of Irish bog oak, bog wood being wood that was preserved under the ground of the Irish bogs for thousand of years (from 2,000 up to 9,000 years). It is normally pine, oak or yew. The conditions of the bog change the colour of the wood to red brown (pine) jet black (oak) or dark brown (yew). It is commonly found while digging for turf in the bogs, and many artists use it in their work. It has a wonderful sheen when softly polished.

Sepia Scene #103

2010-10-06T00:01:00.001+01:00

Sepia Scenes

Why I Don't Edit

2010-10-05T19:48:00.002+01:00

Someone commented a while ago on one of my poems about how the meter of the last line was longer than the rest and so stood out in a bad way, just giving advice on how to edit it. The thing is, I don't edit things I post on my blog. There are few reasons why. It is not that I am insulting my readers and saying you don't deserve the best, it is that you are important to me.
Say someone spends years learning the violin, painfully screeching out each note, causing their family to clap their hands over their ears and run and slam doors to block it. They play the same song over and over. And over. And over. They finally get it right and at their recital they play it. Their family has heard the song so many times they hum it in their sleep, they have resolved to never ever buy their kids another violin, and they have a special drawer for earplugs.
Even for that, who applauds the loudest at the end of the song?

Do you see?

Also, I think blogging is a stream of consciousness. It is different to other media. Just like Twitter has a "science," so does blogging. Most bloggers are honest creative people. I am just being honest by sharing things straight from my head, without editing them.
The truth is, I don't edit. At all. Anything. And I know it is silly and ignorant and stupid but here's the thing...So many people have told me writing is good, that it deserves praise, that I believe them. Truthfully, when I look back at some of my writing it seems so horrid that I think it would have been better not to write it at all. So I listen to those people and think it is good. I send it off almost as soon as I am done writing it. Then it has no chance to slowly change over time to something horrid in my eyes, because someone indifferent has already said it is good. It is like a safeguard, not editing.
I do edit some. As I write, if things sound off I fix them, if a word is wrong, I change it. It is not that I don't edit full stop, just that I don't do that thing where you put in drawer for two weeks and "come at it with fresh eyes."
I know it's stupid.

Chrysalis

2010-10-04T20:03:00.000+01:00

Caterpillars climb our white exterior walls like they are horizontal and stay motionless for days or a second. When they move on, we see a pile of small yellow eggs that stick for twenty rains and hatch whenever we aren't looking. Sometimes the eggs are broken and eaten by a fat black spider, or just don't hatch at all.
A caterpillar lay by our door for days, and never moved. Now there is a green form, where it sleeps. Sometime it will emerge, ordinary as waking from a nap. But this time it will have wings.

Do you find it odd that the chrysalis is so uniform? Each raised bump and ridge is a duplicate of its siblings'. The shape itself is odd, like a bug at rest with furled wing. But each bump and ridge must have a purpose, must fit one toe, or a leg, else why would they exist? It is perfectly efficient, nothing wasted and no space or ornament there if unrequired.
Either God was a genius who created every single thing on earth, in our solar system, everywhere, perfectly efficiently, first try, in seven days...or...evolution smoothed some bumps and raised others so the caterpillar would fit perfectly, uniformly, in its infancy and adulthood, exactly into a chrysalis that it was born with the knowledge of how to construct.

Cuisle

2010-10-03T00:52:00.001+01:00

Last year I expressed remorse for placing in a poetry competition with a low-quality poem. This year I have pulled out all the stops and written a poem I love, and I really hope to win. I am the top age in my category and I like this poem where I hated the last "commendable" one, so I am fairly confident.
I am not the only one of my contempories to do so: PonyGirl has also entered. I am hoping we both get something so we can see each other there...
This competition is Cuisle, if you remember I posted a lot about it and Killarney. We are not going to Killarney the same day as we did last year, so it should be less rushed.
I will post about it if I get anything. Here's hoping :)

Favourite Pen Friday #3

2010-10-01T00:01:00.007+01:00

Well there goes me saying I hadn't mentioned ten consecutive weeeks of Favourite Pen Fridays, because I did. Ah, well, here, after much ado, is Favourite Pen Friday Number Three, and I daren't count how many weeks late.
Still, better late than never in most cases save CPR, so...

These must be the cheapest pens in the series, costing just 4 cents each, but they are not missing in quality the same proportion they lack in price. I haven't found the ink to run out any faster than other pens, they certainly aren't ugly, though they may not be beautiful. They have no branding on them, and they are colour-coded. Sure, if you have a pen fetish they won't be up to standard with your Cross or artisan produced (see next week :) ) work, but they suffice for a writing utensil if what matters is the writing, not the medium in which it comes from the mind to the physical world of the page.
I have noticed they sometimes need a little prompting to write, but lots of pens do.

Willow's Ball...

2010-09-30T22:29:00.000+01:00

This is a terribly long post, so I apologise in advance. Today has been full of things to do and places to go, and all of a sudden I look at the calendar and the Third Annual Willow Manor Ball is here!

I rushed to the bus station to go home and change as I was attending the Over the Edge Reading tonight. It was lovely as always, and I was able to see much more this time, though my mind did drift a little. Hey, I'm a writer, what do you expect? Wonderfully a poem read early in the evening won the poetry section of the Over the Edge New Writer of the Year. MM and I got coffee and a chocolate éclair at the local bakery. Mind you, this was at eight pm. Then we strolled down Shop Street, listened to Key West playing.

When I returned home, I remembered the Manor Ball, so of course I had to rush! I had my dress, my shoes, my accessories, my car... I decided to go dateless, as there are so many wonderful people attending, perhaps I shall just steal...But no, I am too polite for that, I will soak up the atmosphere while reposing on the sofa. Not for the whole night mind you, have you noticed the moon? Moonlight and my dress go so well together...
Here, my stylists have worked so hard I can't let their magic not be showcased.
The car ( a customised Bentley GT Continental) of course, will rush down the roads, taking the bends dangerously.

Lucky I have already applied lipstick! Just before the manor it slows to a crawl, silently sliding up to the entrance. What is the first thing you see as the driver opens my door?

Blue Carvela satin shoes. Ah lovely, and not so expensive. But there must be a dress, perfect for dancing and moonlit strolls and I have found it.

And that necklace I am also wearing, complete with a twig ring , Hercules-knot bracelet, and chandelier earrings (earrings from here), all below.

My hair (it's dark brown by the way) is coiled in an elegant Victorian coiffure, seen below.

You will perhaps have noticed that my theme is timeless elegance and simple grace. Achieved?

Now if you will excuse me, I just have to sample something chocolate. My guess is that there is a great variety. I myself have taken the liberty of asking my personal chef to prepare the same cake he baked for my birthday. It is made with Lindt 70% Cacao Noir and Belgian powdered chocolate. It is simply named Death by Chocolate.
I do believe I see him now, the cake elegantly wrapped in brown paper and ribbon and deposited in the wicker basket of his penny-farthing.
Here, chef!

If you patiently look you will likely find the owners and makers of these images and objects. I apologise that I have forgotten some and have provided links for the ones I knew that you can follow by clicking on the pictures. If you see your own and would like credit or for me to remove it, contact me through my profile, link on the sidebar to the right.

Sepia Scene #102

2010-09-29T00:00:00.002+01:00

Sepia Scenes

Sepia Scene #101

2010-09-22T00:01:00.005+01:00

Sepia Scenes

Unexpected Growth

2010-09-21T00:01:00.002+01:00

No one would have believed that such a little seed

could grow to blossom so grandly with flowers so large

that all the other plants died in the shadow of the weed

Carry On Tuesday

Joie de Vivre

2010-09-19T12:48:00.002+01:00

The time spent in biting into fresh fruit,
in looking out at the rain and smiling,
in making a bed with clean sheets at sunset,
that time is an ingredient in an immortal recipe
for joie de vivre, and it is not wasted.

One Single Impression

Autumn and Winter

2010-09-18T16:23:00.000+01:00

It was simple, the littlest whisper of change, but everything noticed it. Even as I sit here, the rain is slapping onto the window and the wind is flinging the potato leaves. The clothesline is swaying back and forth, if you stood near it the clothes pins would take your eyes.
My hands are cold, even though I am wrapped in a jumper and neck warmer and hat.
In one day, suddenly, without warning, autumn was here.
There was hot sun for a week, brown grass, scorched leaves. Then, that night, the rain started. It thundered and poured and when we woke up, it was autumn.
Now we will have the slightest glimpse of the sun, perhaps, every few days. No uncomfortable heat. No sweat without exertion.
Then, slowly, winter's icy fingers will tear at autumn, until it litters the ground like so many dead leaves. The frost will glisten on grass every morning, every breath will steam the air.
Perhaps there will be snow, only enough to linger for an hour, then the rain will wash it away. Or it will not snow at all, only the ground will be covered in icy tufts that seem like snow, and in between it seems clear until you are looking up at the sky on your back.
But the rain does not come unwelcomeed or uncelebrated. Autumn is my favourite season, and winter has many merits. Colder weather brings people together around fires, back from international summer holidays, back home.
And still, for weeks the roses will bloom, and the blackberries will ripen on their bushes. The sea will stay not icy not warm for many weeks yet.
But the cold has come.

Sepia Scene #100

2010-09-15T00:01:00.000+01:00

Buttons are so varied in both colour, size, and shape, that I though 100 of them would look great in sepia, emphasising aspects different to those we might notice in a colour photo.

Sepia Scenes

Fishing Village

2010-09-14T00:01:00.003+01:00

One misty moisty morning, the sky woke up as grey
And the people living locally cursed the dark damp day
The mountains were clothed in wispy shrouds,
Day-star stayed hidden behind the menacing clouds
The ocean thrashed and hissed at the shore
But the boats out deeper were losing the war
Salt-water rushed to fill each small hole
The Atlantic claimed each celestial soul
When the storm might have passed...
though the day was still grim,
The keeners mourned over a single woven jumper...
though no one was within.

Carry On Tuesday

The Passing

2010-09-13T00:01:00.003+01:00

You went out on the darkest night, a tiny candle all you had for light. And if you met the devil, he didn't let on. How I wished you had stayed inside.

He shuffled the sails of a thousand ships, and sank them one by one. Then he laughed a loud laugh, hummed a jig, and it had begun.

"Play with me here, where shadows are feared, it's only a little game! I roll, you roll, whoever rolls most...Wins! Wins! Wins! The loser, if you, dies a horrible death, but if me, you are free. Sound fair? I will roll first, look at that! Double six with the flick of a wrist. Shall you tie me, or shall you die by my hand?"

Dare you even choose knowing so well you could lose? One roll of the dice and you daren't think twice, for the man with the knife knows you gamble your life and the women three watch like banshees, just waiting for the snip of the yarn.
And there you sit still, undecided, the dice cold and cracked in your hand.White moonshine illuminates the truth of your fate and your body leans lopsided.You are covered in the yarn of a thousand years and still they sit and spin.

Just roll the damned dice, it's only your life!
Remember, you still could win.

One Single Impression

Sunday Scribblings...Treatment

2010-09-12T10:26:00.001+01:00

How faeries treat death:

with soap bubbles
daisies
blue ribbons
feathers
white linen
bells
lavender
roses
rain
puddles
and mud.

Sunday Scribblings

Musical Glass

2010-09-09T18:07:00.003+01:00

Oh that she could see the kaleidoscope of seafoam greens, cotton candy pink and cabernets. Instead she thrilled at the bird-like melodies that sifted through each chime as it waltzed into the embrace of another. Her ears made up for the blindness and allowed her to hear each peal resonate long after the stillness had silenced them.

The image is from here.

Thursday Tales

When I Die...

2010-09-09T12:00:00.010+01:00

When I die I will not say
'do not disturb my circles'
I could say 'don't let me go'
or even 'drop that sword (or gun)'
I could whisper on my dying breath
'at least I have lived this life'
or 'I see the light, it's getting closer'
I could leave everyone disappointed
having died while asleep
or have no words and just weep
but it's more likely I'll try to be profound...
then either I will run out of time...
or lose my voice...
or say something funny instead
how ashamed that would make them feel,
laughing around my death bed.

Theme Thursday, where interpretations run amok. This was inspired by the prompt "reason." Take it how you will.

Stained Glass

2010-09-09T00:01:00.000+01:00

Sunbeams flicker like fireflies though glass stained with paint. Paint pulled from the earth and pounded and mauled into paste. Water, dirty water, from the brown river mixes with it into a soup. The soup has lumpy vegetables, which stick to the sides and the bottom and hide. Simmering it gently with rocking arms and a stick makes it perfect, light, translucent, coloured.
The best taste it, the soup they have mined and mashed and swirled. They know the secret of creation, it is not creation but discovery, the choice of the matter not the maker, what to become. They see it for the living things it was, the living things it will portray, they see the life hidden under colour.
The worst let it sit by the window, growing filmy with the sun and impatient for death. They force their ideals onto it and it lumps and sticks.
The best know to paint when it calls them from the dark floor, the dirt and dead flies cushioning it in dormancy.
The worst pick it from the windowsill and stir it and swish it and force it to make something.
The best take their brush like a sword, like a feather, and carve. The paint guides them.
Then both take a basket of rushes and the best weaves a new basket but the worst uses an old basket. They pack the painted glass, the best swaddles and ties each one, but the worst slots them between lunch and a stool.
The best sets up their stall away from the others, in the shade.
The worst sets it up right in the centre, blocking a passage.
The best waits, but the worst shouts.
You might think justice goes to the best, who has laboured and packed and sits in the shade.
But the worst shouts and people listen.
The sun cracks the paint on the glass, but it gets in the eyes of people buying so they don't notice.
Soon the worst is eating lunch on the stool. Almost all the glass is gone.
A woman and her child pass by the stall of the best. The child gazes up at the glass. The sun makes a kaleidoscope over her face.
She reaches out to touch one...
But her mother has seen the stall of the worst and already he is getting up from his stool and smiling.

The image is from here.

Thursday Tales

The Hill

2010-09-08T21:03:00.001+01:00

Beware lest they charm you into the hill
and concoct a robust feast from your bones
and gnaw and chew, enjoying the kill
Yes, beware, beware of the hill

Three Word Wednesday

Sepia Scenes #99

2010-09-08T00:01:00.003+01:00

Some things just lend themselves so well to Sepia, and Coole Park is one of them. Yet another sepia scene from Coole.

Sepia Scenes

Like Ink

2010-09-06T12:00:00.006+01:00

You don't know about me, but the river knows.
And when it snows, the vultures know.
They know of carrion frosty beneath the hardened earth
They know the sound of cold steel shovels turning dirt.
The vultures know of windy places where the trees are dead
Where if you close your eyes, the birds will take your head.
Where branches claw for skin and stone is cold and wet,
that's where the vultures take you if you can't escape their net.
In the forest there are arches, but the third is a lie
beneath the king key stone one false step and you die
Bone is white is white as snow
and colder is night is night than you'll know
softer is death is death than you think.
Where the vultures wheel, blood flows like ink.

Carry On Tuesday

This is an ante-dated post. My apologies. The internet was down and so I had to wait to post it.

New Friends and a Martello

2010-09-05T12:50:00.000+01:00

Sometimes things just feel right. Moving here was one of them. Often I have had occasion to think that this just could have been the worst decision ever made. But sometimes things just...fall into place...and I know it was meant to be.
Like yesterday for instance.

We were planning to go see an old Martello Tower nearby (here is a little side story, feel free to skip ahead...We saw the red dot for Martello Tower on our Ordnance Survey map, they are the most amazing maps, and if you ever need a great, detailed map of a portion of Ireland, do get one of the OSI maps, they are genius. A bit about Martello Towers; Inspired by a round fortress on Mortella Point, in Corsica. The British copied the design but got the name wrong. Fifty Martello towers were built around Ireland, with most on the East coast near Dublin and seven in Cork.)
MM and DD fell asleep (!!), and when DD woke up, it was after six and he didn't seem inclined to going. I, originally neutral to the idea, now really wanted to go toady, NOW. MM woke up (cough) and we decided to go (yay!).
There we thought we were acting spontaneously, but...
We found it okay, first going too far and getting directions from someone. We saw two people standing taking photos and we left them to themselves.

Martello towers have a raised entrance normally and this was no different. DD climbed the ropes (left by local teens presumably) and reported there was really nothing inside, not even stairs to the top :(
I decided later to try my hand at climbing them and was standing there with DD when their dog came around the tower, so I quickly untangled myself from the rope.
They said hi, we said hi.
The they asked where we were from.
DD said where we lived...
But originally?
Maine.
They had lived in Boston but had moved here a few years ago.
We just clicked.
They had decided just the day before that they needed to find a good computer person to help them.
DD is great at computers.
She is a photographer, me too.
He and MM have things in common.
It was like it was pre-destined.
If MM and DD hadn't fallen asleep...
If we hadn't gone becuase it was late...
If we had given up when we took the wrong road...
If we hadn't been standing by the tower when they left and said hello...
He was able to tell us there was a staircase inside the walls of the tower to get to the top.

Sometimes thing are right, and this was one of them.
These things that reassure me it was the best decision to move here.

Sepia Scene #98

2010-09-04T15:25:00.001+01:00

This was supposed to be posted around last Wednesday, I'm catching up... A paddle-wheel boat taken from a pier.

Sepia Scenes

Until the Ropes Break

2010-09-04T13:08:00.001+01:00

Once upon a time, there was chaos. There is no trying to control chaos. The important thing is recognising chaos as a good thing. Leave the little things to blow in the breeze and tie the important things down one by one. But don't grieve if you miss one, because the others are still there.
I am not an organised person. I am a person who plans and prepares and then decides to watch television instead.
But.

I can try to do everything and have it all fall down. Or I can try to do some things that are important to me and keep juggling to save the world.
So I am going to do some things. I am going to do every single piece of work I am assigned in school instead of leaving some for last-minute rushing. I am going to keep blogging, mainly on the weekends. I am going to write. I am not going stop watching television, because I enjoy it. I am not going to spend all my time doing work or blogging or dossing.

Today I spent the morning reading blogs I had missed during the week due to homework and going to bed earlier. I spent three hours and had only read posts that were posted a day ago. Now I will do like other people and read posts that look interesting, that I might comment on, instead of all of them.
I felt bad that I could not read some people's posts (most of the ones I read I commented on but not all) but I am only catering to my own limitations.

Expect to see me lurking at the edge of the spider's web, where I can travel the strands to anywhere but cannot get tangled.
Also expect to see either a load of posts published today or pre-scheduled throughout the week for last week's memes (I fully maintain better late than never).
Thank you.

Clothesline

2010-08-31T00:01:00.001+01:00

How I know I stand in line,
but it is not conformity
I have been cut and sewn
to resemble your notions
I try to stretch and fly
but I have been rooted
This line is a prison
but there are other inmates
Together perhaps we could fly
but for now, we strain at the roots

Carry On Tuesday

The End of Summer

2010-08-29T00:01:00.006+01:00

The robin sings

empty songs of spring

in the winter

The swan cries

for moonlit skies

that reflect the water

One Single Impression

And So it Ends, My Friends

2010-08-28T00:01:00.001+01:00

Monday I resume school. I have mixed emotions. I need to concentrate more on my studies this year.
As such, I will have to spend far less time blogging and visiting blogs. This makes me sad.
But, I expect to still visit and comment, and blog. In smaller doses.
I will try to schedule posts on the weekends and catch up on blogs then too (MM suggested it, but when she's home, she likes the computer, so I don't see it working out).
I realise that there are a lot of people who blog with full-time jobs, and young children, and numerous other distractions, so why can't I? In order to get a full-time job in the future, I have to now concentrate on my studies. Not that I'm not intelligent, just that I want to do more than simply pass, I want to excel.
I will try very hard to keep the standard as high as I felt it was this summer. The blog almost lived up to its name most weeks, sometimes exceeding it greatly (by that I mean daily posts). I have a lot more followers, and found a lot more blogs to follow.
It's funny, because I really wanted school to begin (to see my friends, of course), but now that it is impending so soon, I want the lazy summer to stay. Because it was lazy. And I was blogging, and writing, and now...
I will be doing different things, and I still want to have time to blog and write. But sometimes the best time to do those things in squashed in between life, because then you really have to make it worthwhile.
Saying goodbye to summer is not that hard, because I love autumn, and saying goodbye to laziness is not so hard, because I love routines. Perhaps it is the feeling that I should be sad that makes me sad to see summer go, but summer will be back. And in the meantime, I will do lots of things that are fun, and some that aren't, but when next summer comes, it will be different than if this summer kept going because of all the things in between, and that is good. That is why it is not so hard to see summer retreating.
All the bad things in life make the good things better.

Favourite Pen Friday #2...Cross

2010-08-27T11:16:00.000+01:00

This is MM's, as I previously mentioned. It is a really great pen, though expensive. I love mine, even though I don't know where it is to love. Getting this as a gift was perfect becuase there is no way I would have spent that much on a pen. But what a pen!

If you happen to have that much extra money lying around and have been looking for a pen, I would say Cross. They do ballpoint pens, pencils, and pen/pencils too.

P.S. Sorry for the lateness of this, I was having trouble with the uploading of photos.

A Load of Nonsense from Me

2010-08-26T22:39:00.001+01:00

So I was at the Over the Edge open reading in Galway City Library earlier tonight, and this is what it was like:
Firstly, it was in the children's portion of the library (more space), and down there there is a pillar. Right. In. The. Middle of the floor. And guess who was sitting behind it?
You got in one: me.
Anyway, it wasn't bad. There is a woollen felt tree around the pillar, complete with felt leaves, felt apples, even felt fungi (my favourite part). And the way the wool was coloured it looked like a calf or a fawn, and also it was stretched and sewn around the pillar, and the branches looked like legs. It looked like a freaky sewn-fawn thing...
I also noticed; there was a fish-tank, and the fish kept going near the filter where the water splashes back in to the tank. And I wondered why. Did the bubbles just feel good? Or were they running out of air? Were they trying to hear the readings? Did they feel the nerves in the room and hyperventilate?
Also, there was this mobile hanging from the ceiling that was really cool. It was made out of rainbow popsicle sticks that spiralled around and around. And I got all nostalgic at the huge picture books. One was called 'Walking with Dasiy,' I think. Is it really fair cows are always called Daisy? But I couldn't see the cover, so I told myself it was a goose called Dasiy instead. Also there was this book called 'I'm Sorry,' and it was funny because I only noticed it when this woman was fumbling for her poem to read, and I can't remember if she actually said I'm sorry, but it was so fitting.
So I got to listen to the poems and stories rather than see them read, but oh well.
And you thought I wouldn't mention it, you hoped until this moment MM, but I am going to.
MM read a flash fiction called 'Cat and Mouse,' and she was nervous. I felt bad for her. I was going to read something, but I waited until the last moment and couldn't find it (it was the poem that I won Millcove with...under 18's section).
Also we were in a rush to post something that had to arrive for a deadline by tomorrow (good one MM), and we posted it with ten minutes to spare. And by the way, the Irish postal system is that good.
Actually we weren't the only ones rushing. Our sort-of-neighbour John Walsh was too. He posted his entry today as well. Come on people!
The sad part is there is no under 18 section unless you are local to the competition (which I am not), it's all over eighteen.
But two years ago, a seventeen year old won. What? Plus I didn't even think the story was that good, but oh well. Then I thought I could use a pen name and not let on it was me, but how would I cash my cheque?
Anyway, MM said she would talk to them about a children's section, and if I entered the adult section and placed, they can't really deny me a prize right? This would be next year anyway.
I was going to keep it about the reading, but I didn't remember too good. I couldn't see the people, just sometimes the back of their heads in the window, the parking garage across the street and the footpath, which were all very entertaining. Sadly most of the work escapes me.
Anyway, that was my night.

Thank you for reading a nonsense post brought to you by late night driving.

Theme Thursday: Equal

2010-08-26T00:01:00.001+01:00

The thing about sequels
is they are often unequal
to all that preceded before
and the thing about elephants
is they can't learn to dance
so stand all alone on the floor
the thing about flies
is they buzz in your eyes
and annoy you more and more
and the thing about endings
is they are often impending
long after you start to snore.

Theme Thursday, where interpretations run amok.

Sepia Scenes #97 Map

2010-08-25T15:27:00.000+01:00

Sepia Scenes

The Curious Case of the Kerrs

2010-08-24T17:41:00.000+01:00

More about their respective childhoods and family.

Mary Feiertag: Born in Belfast 1879. Her mother was called Marie, and she was born in Germany. She had Mary fourteen years after her marriage.
Mary had an older sister called Caroline (seven years older) an older brother called George (four years older), and a younger brother called John (two years younger). They lived in Upper Frank Street. They were the only family in their house, which was made of either brick, stone, or concrete and had a slate, tile, or iron roof. The family of four occupied seven rooms, and there were four windows in the front of the house.
In 1901, her father was already dead. Caroline worked as dress-maker, George as a watch-maker, and John was an apprentice engine fitter. Mary worked as a clerk in the local mercantile. They all identified as Roman Catholics.
In 1911, Caroline and her mother were living at home still. George was still a watch-maker, but now John was an engine fitter, no longer an apprentice.
By this time, the census forms had changed and one could see a new column, entitled "particulars of marriage." Marie Feiertag gave birth to five live children. Only four were alive in 1911. I am guessing the one that died was between Caroline and George.

John Kerr: He was born in Co. Down, in...1883. He was younger than his wife, and so I believe he lied on later forms saying he was the same age. His father was John Kerr, a teacher. His mother was Mary Kerr, she was an Englishwoman. Strangely, his father was two years younger than his mother. So why did James later lie about being younger than his wife?
She had him when she was 27. He had two older sisters, Mary Josephine (four years older), and Sarah Therese (two years older), a younger brother Charles Edward (three years younger), a younger sister Agnes Genevere (six years younger), and the youngest in the family was Alphonsus Patrick (eight years younger).
They lived on Cyprus Avenue, only a mile away from Upper Frank Street. On top of that, Beechfield Street, very near to Upper Frank, had some Kerrs on it, perhaps relatives they would have visited. Their house was made of stone, brick or concrete, had a tile, iron, or slate roof. The family of eight occupied twelve rooms (but there were more rooms in the hose, so they must have had servants), and there were eight windows in the front of the house. They also had a stable, a fowl house, and a workshop.
I believe that as he and his elder siblings were born in "Co. Down," and the younger ones were born in "Belfast," that the family had moved into the city for some reason a year or two after he was born.
In 1901, Mary Josephine worked as a National school teacher (like her father), Sarah was a housekeeper, Charles Edward was a monitor (not sure what this is), and the youngest were still in school.
By that time (he was eighteen), James Kerr was a pharmaceutical apprentice. He was also the only member of his family who could speak both English and Irish.
The whole family identified as Roman Catholics.
In 1911, the family was in a different house, but still on Cyprus Avenue. Their house was made of stone, brick or concrete, had a tile, iron, or slate roof. The family of five occupied thirteen rooms, and there were thirteen windows in the front of the house. They also had a stable.
Charles Edward and his father were the only ones employed (as National teachers). Mary Josephine was (I believe), married to William John Campbell, a local. They were married in 1902, and had four children (still living, of six). Alphonsus Patrick was a boarder with a Protestant family in Cork. He was working as a pharmaceutical apprentice (like his older brother), and could speak Irish and English.The rest still lived at home (save James, he was in Clones). Now James's older sister Sarah, and younger siblings Charles and Agnes could also speak Irish and English.
By this time, the census forms had changed and one could see a new column, entitled "particulars of marriage." Mary Kerr gave birth to eleven live children in total. As of 1911, only seven were living.

In 1911, James Kerr and his wife Mary Feiertag Kerr lived in Clones. They had a six month old baby girl, their first.

Just a note: I am putting this on my blog as a place to have all the information together and to share the excitement (I think it is exciting), but don't feel pressure to read or comment :)

Bookshelf Revamp

2010-08-24T12:00:00.001+01:00

In keeping with current trends (seen on The Steampunk Home here and One Must Shock the Bourgeois here and here)...I have turned the books on my meagre bookshelf spine side in. Well, just to see how it works for a while.
I think it probably won't. Because I can't tell which book is which.
But I like the way it looks.
A lot.
The Before:

The After:

Leather Shoes

2010-08-24T00:01:00.001+01:00

So little done, so much to do
and in between there's sleeping too.
If I leave the sleeping up to you
but keep the dreams in a leather shoe,
then wherever I walk they'll come too.
I'll know if they don't ever come true,
that being there was the most they could do
and with them in my shoes, I flew.

Carry On Tuesday

The Last on Miss M. Feiertag (I think)

2010-08-23T23:54:00.000+01:00

Just a photo of Fermanagh Street, where they lived in Clones. The red circle is the Church of Ireland, St. Teirnach's, which they lived close too. Almost everyone on their street however, defined themselves as Roman Catholics (save two Methodists).
The cursor is on the street. (If you can see it, it's to the right of the circle).

For more on the Kerrs, scroll down.

Further Files on Mary Feiertag

2010-08-23T23:53:00.000+01:00

The original post. The second post.

Post the third:

Back to Belfast, the street directory 1907: there is a F. Fiertag listed at the residence. Occupation? A jeweller. That was her father. Mother; unknown, but is listed as head of household in 1911. Presumably the father had died?

The younger Mary Feiertag was already in Clones in 1911. She had been married to James Kerr for four years and had one daughter, aged six months, called Mary.
In 1911, both she and James were 32. They had been married at 28. The postcard(s), if indeed from James, were sent when they were both 27.
All members of the household were Roman Catholic. Perhaps this is why they left Belfast in the first place?
James Kerr is listed as a pharmacist undergraduate. The family lived over their shop (chemist). It had walls made of either stone, brick or concrete. The roof was either slate, iron, or tiles. There were six rooms and three windows in the front of the house. They were the only family in the house, and occupied all six rooms (with three family members). The census was filled out on April 10 1911.
They lived in the barony of Dartree, the town land of Crossmoyle, on Fermanagh Street.

And sadly, that is probably nearly all there is on the Kerrs. The rest is not in the public domain. We know of one of their children, Mary. She was the eldest. That was the first pregnancy and the first birth. We don't know if there were later hardships, but we do know there were three other children, two boys and another girl, though not in what order. We know they were interesting people, we know a lot about them. More than I know about my own grandparents.
The rest is up to imagination. And I am inspired.

Miss M. Feiertag

2010-08-23T15:43:00.000+01:00

Regarding the earlier post about the postcard, I sent a message to the ebay seller to ask if he knew anything about Miss Mary Feiertag, and he said:

She was a native of the Black Forest in Germany, came to Ireland and lived in Belfast where she met her future husband James Kerr - the sender of the cards. When they married they lived in Clones where {he} was a chemist. They had four children - two sons and two daughters. There are no surviving members of the family.

I guess there is no great mystery. Unless you count that the cards were in different handwriting, meaning they were sent by different people. Perhaps the seller is covering up the truth when he says her future husband sent them. Perhaps both she and her husband were involved in something not entirely legal.
On top of that is the fact she was listed as householder in the 1911 census. Was that before or after her "marriage?" Perhaps the Mary listed was her mother, and the younger Mary was already married and gone by 1911.
On the other hand, perhaps there is no great mystery, no cover-up, no scandal, and it is just a very ordinary postcard from one ordinary person to another, in the year of 1905.
Still...