Due to unforeseen circumstances, involving the limited amount of space afforded to me on blogspot, I will have to close down this page, and my Tegan and Sara page, very shorty...in order to free up space for my art blog.

If you are interested, all further posts will be found on http://shelkybean.tumblr.com/

It pains me to have to convert, as I don't really understand tumblr, and I know it will take me ages to get my head around it, but I cant afford to lose shelkybean.blogspot.com

So, sin e

Evelyn Cusack, one of the weather presenters on RTE won me over with her sea area forecasts ( i know how sad that must sound, but there is something very poetic about them.) The sound of them...the rhythm and timing, and just the general sound...

" Buoy M5	East-Northeast, 11 Knots, The visibility at Tuskar Lighthouse is 0.6 Miles, 1025, Falling slowly"

 

I have no clue what any of it means, but when I catch it on the radio, my heart skips a beat. 

When me and mum were driving up to monaghan for nana's funeral a couple of weeks ago, we took the 'short cut' ... short cuts in Ireland mean...the OLD roads. The ones that no one uses anymore. The ones that used to be used before all the bypasses. If Ireland was a person, it would be a severely overweight, middle aged man, who lived on fast food...needing as a result, multiple operations on his over worked and under appreciated heart...

Anyway. We were on such a road, no street lights, only space on the road for a car and a half, going around these hair pin bends like a bat out of hell. It was about half 11 at night when we left the house. Mum was working that day, so needed to pack and get organized before we left.

I was in and out of sleep I guess. Being in cars makes me sleepy, unless Im driving. Then Im wired.

The news came on and I perked up. I cant remember what the news items were...God knows...but we were listening to RTE1 for some reason, and after the midnight news on RTE1 you get the marine forecast.

I said, when the intro music played "Don't change it over, I love this"

To which I expected mum to think quite strange, as I would understand anyone thinking it quite strange, me, that knows nothing about boats, or knots, or anything of that world, loving the sea area forecast.

But much to my surprise, after a little pause she said, "Oh I know, I love it too"

So we listened to it, and after she said that she liked it because she imagines all the fishermen out in their boats, when she listened to it...and that in turn, transported her to that world...mum has an amazing imagination.

I suppose I think that too, in a way. Romanticize that way of life, imagine bobbing up and down in a little fishing vessel...But mostly I love the sound of the rising slowly...falling slowly...bit

Id love to know what that is in relation to, but something is preventing me from finding out. In a way, I don't want to know, it would take the mystery out of it.

Is it the tide coming in...I imagine the belly of a sleeping mermaid rising and falling slowly with each watery breath...

I think of the moon slowing rising and falling in the sky (i know that thats not it) but all these images spring to mind with those 4 words.

And the visibility bit...The light house keepers measuring how far out to sea they can see, and writing down that data to pass on to the Evelyn...or how ever it works...It makes me like it more thinking that people are involved with the process, and its not a bunch of data collecting computers...

I love light houses...It would be a dream come true to live in one...I think my life would be complete if I lived in a lighthouse. I couldn't imagine any other material thing making me that happy.

Anyway..Ive run totally off topic...

The dear Evelyn told us tonight that tomorrow we are to expect temperatures to rise to between 16-20 degrees celcius...which is summer weather for any readers not from this area of the world...

She also said that we may be getting some light showers tomorrow, and in those showers, there may be some sahara desert sand...apparently its being blown up here...apparently its also totally safe, and she assured us not to worry...

Never a dull moment, not even in the weather report :)

The moon was just a slip of a thing tonight.
The colour had drained out, clung to the very edge.
The stars poked through the dense black of the still night sky.
And there was no sound.
Like everything had been sucked out.
And it's night's like these that I miss the warm air that used to make sleep nearly impossible.
Those summer days, on the hammock
With Shadow running beneath me.
Its nights like this, I wish for the whirr of a fan to circulate the dense night air
The crickets song
The cold sheets, to cool sunburn.
And the heat of the day trapped beneath my skin.
I long for those moments of comfort and security,
That don't reside in this cold landscape.
These borrowed days know nothing of the magic of suburban summer.
Just the shape of fairy winds, gusts and gales, stormy seas crashing on my windows.
Perpetual winter lives on in the hearts of these people
They are cooled by the chance of hail, the threat of ice.
Rain is such an after though, such a regular occurrence
That it doesn't even warrant a mention most of the time
Even with the streetlights,
I could see the stars.
And on the edge of the city that never sleeps,
We found peaceful slumber on the foothills of the Appalachians.
Their secret safe with us, our dreams rising with them.

wow...
apparently there is a limit to the amount of pictures you can put up on this.
and Ive just reached my limit...

just WOW
How upsetting

add that to the list.

Sitting here, listening to the sudden downpour of rain outside...

Sounds like the ocean is crashing up against my window.

If I was swaying a little, I could convince myself that I am at sea.

Maybe I did a little.

Sometimes, I can be quite spontaneous.

It doesn't happen often, and a lot of people don't see that side of me.

Some never do.

And when it does rear its head, I suppose it could be confused with madness, in the most conventional sense of the word.

Before I knew really what I was at, I had left the warm cocoon of my room, and grabbed a towel out of the bathroom, making my way for the back door...letting my cardigan drop off me along the way, and hopping, one footed to remove my shoes.

Then, the lock turned, and I was standing outside, underwater but not drowning. 

The sound of the water lured me out. The crashing of waves against the double paned glass. 

The constant beating and the wind.

And I stood for about 5 minutes...its 1:40 am and very cold out there...Im spontaneous, but I don't want to come down with the flu tomorrow either...I may be mad, but Im practical...

And I let the rain roll down my face, and dampen my lovely spring dress, and wet all the layers through so that the cold water chilled me to my bones, and my hair was wet. The wind sent shivers up and down me.

But it was very cleansing.

Sometimes you need to do something out of the ordinary in order to snap you back into reality.

Sometimes its very difficult to see the wood from the trees

And letting the rain wash all that away, to be you, the rain, the wind, the dark, the night.

The force of nature, so much bigger and stronger then me...then everything else...well, it puts you back into place again doesn't it?

Sort of makes you get a hold of yourself.

Its like when someone is hysterical, crying on the silver screen, and then another actor slaps them across the face. They always take it. Its just that quick, short, slightly painful !snap! that puts them back into their bodies, and makes them human again.

I haven't stood out in the cold rain, in a long time...Im always running away from it, like a little field mouse, running to the next bit of dry shelter.

Im going to start taking things back. I think it's time.

I know it is.

Excited

Tomorro Im giving a talk to the women's group in town. My aunt asked me to do if, they've been trying to get this other crowd in for ages, and they keep canceling. So...Shelly to the rescue!
I'm pretty excited. Not nervous at all. I don't really get nervous about things anymore, I just get excited, and look forward to them instead. There's really no point in getting nervous, I just turn in to a wreck when Im nervous, so screw that. Waste of energy.
They want to know how to make a quilt. I did a bit of research, the history of quilting and all that jazz. Don't get me wrong...I love quilts, in the practical sort of way. Hell, when I get around to measuring out squares that are all the same size, but all different patterns, Ill make my own one and curl up with in with a cup of coco and a book...But, it doesn't get my creative juices flowing, if you get me.
And as useless as I am doing any sort of 'practical' research online in general, Im ten times worse when Im not overly enthusiastic about what Im researching.
But its ok. Ive got the bones of it, and it should all come together. I think its a fairly informal sort of meeting anyway. Its not like they are expecting some sort of powerpoint presentation, with hand outs and the like...although that would be pretty impressive, if I was talking to them about 1930s traveling circuses in the American south west...but Im not, Im talking about quilts.

All that aside...its good to do things that take you out of your comfort zone, that get you to think in a different way, and get you in circles of people that you would not normally mix with. And of course, its another thing to add to the aul cv, which needs a good dusting off at this stage.

Yea, looking forward to tomorrow :)
And that will be one more thing scratched off the list :)

Stumble.com is a last stop for my internet surfing done on a nearly daily basis. When I have checked everything going, and don't yet feel Im full up, I travel there. Sometimes I find things that have no relevance to me, other times I'm lead in circles round sites that I have stumbled on before, but tonight, well this just made my day...

Now if only there were pictures accompanying each bullet point...that really would be something :)

DESHODA

To the end of the internet and back

Famous World Ideologies, as explained by references to Cows

  

• Feudalism: You have two cows. Your lord takes some of the milk.
• Pure Socialism: You have two cows. The government takes them and puts them in a barn with everyone else’s cows. You have to take care of all the cows. The government gives you all the milk you need.
• Bureaucratic Socialism: Your cows are cared for by ex-chicken farmers. You have to take care of the chickens the government took from the chicken farmers. The government gives you as much milk and eggs the regulations say you should need.
• Fascism: You have two cows. The government takes both, hires you to take care of them, and sells you the milk.
• Pure Communism: You have two cows. Your neighbors help you take care of them, and you all share the milk.
• Real World Communism: You share two cows with your neighbors. You and your neighbors bicker about who has the most “ability” and who has the most “need”. Meanwhile, no one works, no one gets any milk, and the cows drop dead of starvation.
• Russian Communism: You have two cows. You have to take care of them, but the government takes all the milk. You steal back as much milk as you can and sell it on the black market.
• Perestroika: You have two cows. You have to take care of them, but the Mafia takes all the milk. You steal back as much milk as you can and sell it on the “free” market.
• Cambodian Communism: You have two cows. The government takes both and shoots you.
• Militarianism: You have two cows. The government takes both and drafts you.
• Totalitarianism: You have two cows. The government takes them and denies they ever existed. Milk is banned.
• Pure Democracy: You have two cows. Your neighbors decide who gets the milk.
• Representative Democracy: You have two cows. Your neighbors pick someone to tell you who gets the milk.
• British Democracy: You have two cows. You feed them sheeps’ brains and they go mad. The government doesn’t do anything.
• Bureaucracy: You have two cows. At first the government regulates what you can feed them and when you can milk them. Then it pays you not to milk them. Then it takes both, shoots one, milks the other and pours the milk down the drain. Then it requires you to fill out forms accounting for the missing cows.
• Pure Anarchy: You have two cows. Either you sell the milk at a fair price or your neighbors try to take the cows and kill you.
• Pure Capitalism: You have two cows. You sell one and buy a bull.
• Capitalism: You don’t have any cows. The bank will not lend you money to buy cows, because you don’t have any cows to put up as collateral.
• Enviromentalism: You have two cows. The government bans you from milking or killing them.
• Political Correctness: You are associated with (the concept of “ownership” is a symbol of the phallo-centric, war mongering, intolerant past) two differently – aged (but no less valuable to society) bovines of non-specified gender.
• Surrealism: You have two giraffes. The government requires you to take harmonica lessons.

...

Im doing a submission for doodlers' anon and I scanned in the rough drawing to my computer so I could 'easily' add the background colours in photoshop...
WHY did I even bother...It's gone from being a quick doodle, to a full blown, technicolour masterpiece...
I should have just done it by hand in the first place...but its just so...second nature? to put everything through the photoshop paces...I have to get out of the habit...before its too late and my right hand evolves in order to fit my magic mouse more snuggly ...
Also, Ive been at it for at lest 4 hours...how do I know that? Because Ive listened to all of Tegan and Sara's music...

sigh




I spent some of the small hours looking at street art...brightening up streets, cityscapes, and alleyways in a town near you...
Well, not so near...but one can dream.

because Im lazy

This made me laugh so much when I came across it on a blog that I follow nearly religiously, for no other reason then everything on it makes me crack up.

My darling friends will be offended by this...actually, they wont because they know me...but Twilight does not count as good reading...I wouldn't even call it a book...and what you do with it is not reading, it is slowing and painfully killing every single one of your braincells until nothing is left inside your girly skull except a pool of grey goo.

After the guts of a year of my deerlings trying to convince me that the books were actually 'really good' and that I should 'give them a chance'...I did, for no other reason then to keep them quiet for 5 minutes.

Oh for Jesus sake.

I know that Im not a big reader. In fact, its a rarity to find me curled up with anything thats not glossy and full to the brim with pictures, but I did plough though the first 3, and then 3/4's the way though the 4th one before I actually asked to be put on life support, fearing that the liquid dripping from my head was not still wet hair from a shower two weeks ago, and instead, the entire contents of my liquidized brain.

How, I ask you, how did Stephenie Meyer ever convince herself, never mind an editor AND a publisher and then a writer and a director and actors to take that pile of regurgitated crap seriously?? I just don't understand. If I ever have to read the word 'smolder' on the pages of a paperback again, I think I will actually throw chunks.

I suppose there was a piece of me that thought, "hey, maybe Im wrong about this whole Twilight phenomenon?? Maybe the books are better then the movies (which I was also dragged to kicking and screaming by my darling friends). But...

No.

I was definitely right.

The books are absolutely terrible, and there is nothing that anyone, living or dead, can say that would change my mind to that BLINDING fact.

All of that aside, a certain percentage of the profits miss Meyer receives go directly to the Mormon church, which ran a massive campaign against prop 8, and are generally out with pitchforks and flaming torches to smoke and burn the gays out of every village from Utah to Uzbekistan.

Of course I would burn the 4 'novels' I have, but I don't want to pollute the world further with her tripe...

I was thinking of sending them back to her, but Id be afraid she would just resell them, and make a quick buck off them...

If anyone has any suggestions what I could do with the damned things, let me know...Im sick of looking at them.

oh dear

It appears that I have fallen in to the habit of not sleeping again.
I don't know what it is, but ever since the clocks changed, my sleeping pattern has been knocked totally off.
Its 3, and any sane person would be sleeping right now.
I don't know what it is. I don't even think Im tired.
This used to happen a lot when I used to write, a lot...a lot more then I write now.
I would stay up and just write, write until I was sleep writing, wake up, write some more and then eventually give in to the heavy eyelids that were preventing me from seeing, and finally fall into bed.
Maybe its that I work in my bedroom. So there is no distinction between being finished work, and it being time for bed?
I worked out a design tonight, rough, but still, something solid that Im starting to be happy with.
And Ive been thinking a lot, and finding lots of nice inspiring images.
But I don't feel tired yet.
Buts its a very unsociable hour to be awake at, and if I want to get anything done tomorrow, I should really call it a night, or an early morning...whichever.

Maybe if this was just a bit smaller.
That, a bit bigger.
If I could will myself to erase all those words,
Instead of storing them for some project that wont happen.
A place for everything
And everything in it.
It is.
A backlog of images, visions and scribbles.
Lines and sentences, that no longer hold meaning,
But once were dripping with it.
The man who made time, made plenty of it.
Well it doesn't feel like that, right now.
Long sleepless nights
Days that speed through to darkness, again.
Waking at the end of day, to catch the stars,
Some sight that glowing orange slice of moon,
Maybe the only perk of being woken so late,
When finally asleep.
I would welcome that empty feeling back now with open arms,
Ive been so filled with the trappings of people and different places,
I wish I could just unhinge for a moment and let all of their everything come tumbling out,
Spilling like a loaded wave of sea; fish, clams, crabs, shells, and the particles of stones and
Rocky cliffs long eroded by the salty water.
Only to close up again, shut tight, with only myself in myself.
What a relief that would be.

ah...sanctuary

How I have missed this space.
The last month has been, well...lets face it, pretty grim.
February and March will never hold the same meaning for me, and that makes me quite sad.
Now instead of celebrating my birthday, and welcoming spring, those feelings will be mixed and muddled up with ones of loss and sadness.
People always die in 3's and Im dreading the next one, although Ive completely lost count at this stage...I think the designated 3 has happened for each, but Im not sure where one group ends and the next starts.

Eoghain is upstairs mixing, and dad is at the top of the road getting the patch ready for potatoes, so some sort of normality is beginning to fall into place, but I still feel a bit stuck, and not entirely rested after the last month of late nights, early morning pick ups, being sombre, eating very little of anything good, waiting, listening...being supportive...
January and the beginning of February were so hopeful, I was so full of energy and vim...now, I fell like going against the sun that is streaming in, and hibernating for another winter.
Im going to go plant some more flowers, which seems to be the only thing that I have actively been able to do lately. It mite help to shake this bad spell off?

Really and truly you cannot plan for anything.
To 'plan' is futile, and a total waste of time.
Imagine all the things you could be doing instead of planning.

If you plan for things, and they don't happen, you just feel let down, don't you.
If you plan for things, and they don't turn out the way you expected, you feel let down.

Rarely do things we plan for actually happen the way we plan them, or live up to our expectations, no matter how high or low they are.

And even when you are prepared for something, and there is a loose plan in effect, for said event, still, everything can end up, up in the air.

Well Said R-Pat

Me and mum were discussing this yesterday on our way to tesco in Castlebar food shopping. We have always had 'car talks'...and I think 'car talks' are the way forward in many respects. In a car there is no real exit (traveling at 100k) so things that are said, are generally absorbed, digested and discussed in full. 

So of course we were talking about the events of the last month or so...declan's death, that other poor woman, nana being sick and in immense pain...and all the other little things...And mum was saying that there has to be more. 

Life is too complicated, and often times, too bad, to think that after struggling through it all, that there is not some sort of reward for coming through it all intact. That was what she was saying anyway.

And I was thinking earlier today, that she is probably right. How could this be all there is. Wouldn't that just suck? 

I don't know what I believe in exactly, but if I believed that at the end of my life, however long or short that is...the unanswerable question...I just went into the ground, and that was it - fin ... What really would there be to live for. At the best of times it's hardly peaches and cream, and when its bad, its ever so bad.

What exactly is the point of it all if you don't think, somewhere inside you, that there is going to be something better once you get through all this shit?

Tonight will be the third night I will have to go collect Eoghain. Im definitely earning my good karma points, ready to be cashed in. I'm following in mum's footsteps in that way.

If I turn out a sixteenth the person she is, my space in heaven will definitely be secure.

Here's hoping.

The Moon…and Back Again

Tuesday morning started bright and early…6am to be exact, and bright from the heavy frost that had developed during the night. Panic stations. There is nothing like frost or ice or snow to get you wondering if your going to make your final destination on time.

I got up at 6 because I think I’m bordering on the insane. Before I go traveling anywhere, I get incredibly nervous. Nervous that I will leave something very important behind, nervous that I wont get where Im going on time. So, 6 it was.

Everything in order, checked and double checked, I waited anxiously for mum to get up, having forgotten what time she said she wanted to be out of the house by. So, around 8, I tip-toed up the stairs and peeped into her room. She was awake, and just coming to terms with the idea of getting out of bed.

I let the dogs out, and once again, made sure that I had everything I needed: money, times, clothes, toothbrush, ipod, headphones, makeup, socks…the debated whether or not I should bother bringing my sketch book. I opted for not and Im relieved that I make that decision.

We left the house at a no hurry quarter to 9. Of course there was an internal tempest swirling around inside my head…the winds of which were howling, “YOUR GOING TO BE LATE!! YOUR NOT GOING TO MAKE IT”

But in fairness, when your travelling from the Moon, you have a long way to go, and anything can go wrong.

Mum started her rosary and asked me which mystery she should say. I half jokeninly, half seriously said “The mystery that prevents this car from breaking down” Because the last time we drove to Galway, the car died just before the first roundabout on the edge of the city. And I just had visions of that sad fate befalling us again.

Everything was going smoothly, and I was taking in the scenery. The lovely, sunny morning that it was, such a contrast from the previous couple of wintery days. Just on the outskirts of Tuam, I spotted in the distance a tiny blip in the sky, and realized quickly that it was a hot air balloon. All the way into Tuam, through it, and the other side, we got closer and closer to it. I was so excited by the sight, never having seen one before. It was so so beautiful, just hanging in the sky, still…a beacon and a sign of still, good weather. I mean, how often to you see a hot air balloon here??

The far side of Claregalway, I directed mum to where she needed to go, after having come to the conclusion that there was no way I would have enough time to bring her there myself and still make my bus. So once that was established, I hopped out where we had broken down before, grabbed all my stuff, and trecked into town on my footsies. Every so often I looked back, wondering if a bus would pass me, and none did, which I had figured. If there’s one thing Ive learned from living in Galway, its that, you cant ever rely on a bus. Sometimes you are lucky, and one will come to save you. But most of the time, youd be quicker walking. So that’s what I did. Pelt it into town.

Once in Eyre Square, I marched down to the bus startion, knowing already that the ‘mystery bus’ to Delivin, most likely, would not exist. Such a thing would just be too handy and wonderful, to actually be on offer. Even if the bus eireann website did plainly state that said bus, was in fact, a reality.

I prepared myself for the actual facts.

I went to the girl that I always go to. Im always nice as pie to her because I happened across her one day after a really nasty customer gave her a going over. So I think she sort of knows me…but I think maybe she was suffering from early onset aslheimerzs Tuesday morning, because she was as cross as a feral cat, and for no reason…

I went to the desk and first asked if there was a direct bus to Delvin…I didn’t even assume that there was going to be one.

“NO…there is no direct bus to Delvin. Youl have to go to Dublin first and then get a connecting bus to Delvin.”

I sort of looked at her. I didn’t have the energy to put up a fight. I don’t think I have any fight left in me. So I conceited defeat and asked how I was going to go about going to Delvin. She huffed and she puffed and I thought she was going to blow her computer down. It just appeared to be such a trial for her to do her job. So after a few minutes of computering, and several mintues of flicking though sheets of timtables, she tapled a bunch of them together and pushed them through the middle ground.

I looked at them as if they were written in Turkish. Bus timetables and me, don’t mix. I can get from one end of London to the other. Put me in America and I will get from the top to the bottom of the east coast, no bother. Push a bus eireann time table under my nose, and you mite as well be asking me to perform open heart surgery.

I cannot make any sense of them.

I side stepped, incase there was someone else who needed to talk to this abominable little woman, and looked at the numbers, places, solid lines, broken lines, and tried, tried very hard to understand this gibberish. After awhile, I realize that I was never much good at algebra, and this was as good as. So, sheepishly creeping back to my server, I asked if she could explain, because I just didn’t understand.

Well

She basically carved loops around the times I needed, and made the time table look like a plan of defensive attach on  a football pitch.

In fairness, it did make some sort of twisted sense then, but, worn out, she walked off, and didn’t come back. Maybe it was her tea break. Or maybe she was just fed up of dealing with idiots like me. Whichever, Im never going back to her again. And Im definitely going to get in contact with Bus Eireann and ask them to sort their internet site out, because it just doenst work. EVER.

I got my ticket off the other woman, a direct ticket, all the way to Delvin, and Im glad I did, it defiantely saved time in the long run.

So, on the bus I hopped. Thankfully it wasn’t full, so I got two seats to myself, which is really the only way that bus travel is enjoyable. It left galway at half 11, and we pulled into the bus station at 3, on the nose. As we were circleing it, I could see my connecting bus, the 111 in the loading dock, and crossed my fingers hard, hoping that it wouldn’t pull away before I was on it.

As soon as we were stationary, I hopped off and skipped down to my next bus, and sheepishly asked if he was going to Delvin.

“Devlin? No”

…

“Oh, actually, you get off at Athboy, yeah, hop on”

That’s when my poor brain began to rattle. The bus reminded me of the one out of the 2^nd Harry Potter…double decked and strangly narrow. The dirt of the windows made it impossible to see where I was, and I searched the distance for road signs, anxious that I would miss my stop , and end of God knows where…

We passed through Trim, I knew where I was. I think I have either driven through there before, but I cant remember how. The castle is SO impressive, its no wonder Emma did a whole body of work on it. She rang me just as I was leaving the city and asked me where I was, and we arranged that she’d collect me from Athboy instead of me having to wait for another bus to bring me to her town. Athboy is the next village, and also very cute. I got dropped off opposite a londis, where I picked up a bunch of tulips for herself and a malteesers bunny. I wasn’t waiting long for her, and I was so relieved when she pulled up J

We headed down to her nan’s house, which is in Trim, and just up the road a bit from the Library where Emma’s Stitch in Time solo show is on, for the next two weeks. Trim is as cute as a button, all of it. The estate her nan lives in is sweet and compact. Even her nan’s dog is sweet and compact. She was sitting on the back of the settee ‘smiling’ out at us as we pulled up. Emma’s whole family are warm and welcoming. They have that earthy realness that makes you feel instantly at home, even if it’s the first time you’ve met them. After a much longed for cup of tea, we walked up to the exhibition to make sure that everthing was where it needed to be, and I stuck the first of many red dots on the piece that I was only delighted to bring back to the Moon with me.

The moon indeed. Everyone I was introduced to, was regaled with my story of that day’s travels, to which they all responded, “ah, God love Ya! Aren’t you Great for coming all that way..” With sighs at the appropriate points and that lovely dub sensitivity in every word. I started to realize that to people on the other side of the country, Mayo is a world away, which it pretty much is. In the amount of time it took me to get to trim via Dublin, I could have been in America, or Russia…or, it began to feel, the Moon.

We walked back to her Nan’s and got ready for the opening.

The opening went off without a hitch, even if none of the advertising for it had the time of the opening included, and the man who was meant to be opening it, sent a representative because he couldn’t make it himself. All in all though, there was about 20 – 30 people that came through, and from everyone, there was a great interest in the work. They weren’t coming because they felt they had to. They came because they wanted to, and I think that’s definatly worth saying. One man chewed over Emma’s mounted paper work for what seemed like, the guts of 45 minutes anyway. He was really looking, which is great to see. In the end, he bought two pieces. There was a lovely relaxed atmosphere, and Emma just looked, in her element.

I would imagine that it is quite a feeling, to put your work up, on its on, with no one else’s work around it, to distract from it, and see people really enguage with it. It must be a wonderful feeling.

And I know art isn’t about making money, but when someone loves something enough that they want to take it home with them, that feeling must be amplified tenfold. I am so happy for her. She is truly amazing, and an absolute inspiration, and a treasured friend.

We picked up a chinese on the way home. I had totally forgotten how hungry I was, until I walked though the take aways doors. Food in paw, we made our way back to Emma’s house, which is, Ill admit, in the middle of no where. It was lovely J

Red Door, snap, it reminded me a lot of my house, if my house was all one level. So I just instantly felt at home. I think Im getting better at being in new places and meeting new people. I don’t know if that’s just a growning up thing that just happens, or a conscious thing…well, whichever it is…Im glad of it. We all sat around the kitchen table and ate and talked. Emma’s family is, Ill say it again, lovely. They asked all the usual questions: where are you from, oh your parents are Irish, so how did you find it, oh, oh really, those inbred bastards!

It was a nice little chat J

Then after food, we made tea and curled up on Emma’s ‘comfy as the underbelly of a seal pup’ couches, where Toto entertained us to no end. What a caracterful, lovely little pooch. I could have ate him up with a spoon, he was just that cute! I also met the infamous Jillian, Emma’s older sister, who I had heard so much about. She was really nice, and asked what I was doing with myself post college J

Wrecked from the day, me and Emma made up a bed for me, consisting of 4 duvets on her floor, which Toto christened by curling up on the end of, and then pretending that he was deaf and paralyzed when asked to move. And basically, I passed out as soon as my head hit the pillow.

When I was still in America, I used to find it very hard to fall asleep. Like impossible. And half the night I would spend fighting with myself to go to sleep. But since living on my own, and then all through college, I have no trouble sleeping anymore. And even if I wake up in the night, Ill just turn over and go straight back to sleep. Its something I don’t take for graunted at all. Emma, who is just 4 weeks shy of her due date, was up and down like a yoyo all night. Stretching and what-not. Getting love filled phone calls from her ‘baby daddy’ in England. Bless her cute head.

Yesderday, she made me the most awesome porridge Ive ever had. It was so creamy, it was like custard. I could have eaten all three bears’ bowls, if I wasn’t so full after the first one! And of course, the mug of tae, never an irish breakfast, elevenses, lunch, dinner, or pre-bed is complete without tea. Toto curled up next to me on the couch, where I get the feeling he isn’t usually allowed, but seeing as he knew I was a total soft touch, and didn’t know the rules of the house, he just latched on to me. Pure dote.

We got ready to head into the library. I said my goodbyes to Emma’s mum, and thanked her profusely for her hospitality. She is so lovely. A real mummie. And of course said goodbye to Toto. Cute little dude.

When we arrived at the Library there was something on, and all her boards had been shimmied over to the side to make space for a crowd of kids who were doing some sort of irish table quiz type things. So we decided we’d walk down town and get a cup of tea and run a few errands. I can’t remember the name of the little café we landed in, but true to what I wrote earlier, it was button cute. The two tables at the front, were sun flooded and warm, but opting for more space, we went to the back. There were framed colour posters of Tin Tin, and robin’s egg blue paint cooled the walls. Ive always had a soft spot for that colour. The staff was friendly and attentive, buzzing round the full café. Everyone was smiling and chatting happily. There was such a nice energy about the place, if you didn’t have anything else on, you could sit there quite happily, whileing away the hours.

We got a large old style brown tea pot and shared the contents between us. Emma got an almond crossiant, and I got a plate of brown toast, that came out pipeing hot.

I must have looked pleased as punch because at one stage emma smiled at me and said “I could see you living here”…and funnily enough, it definitely won me over. Trim has that ‘small town’ feel, but its busy and alive. It has this quaintness, without seeming secluded or appearing backward. I was trying to describe it to mum this morning, by compareing it to other towns, but I wasn’t giving it justice at all, because its nothing like Ive experienced before. It really isn’t like any other town in Ireland. I don’t know what its like. But its lovely.

After tea, we popped over to the bank. Banks are all the same, aren’t they…

Then back up to the Library, just in time for their lunch break, at which time Elaine passed us in the bus. So we got the car and drove down to collect her from the bus stop. True to form, Elaine was a burst of sunshine, lollipops and rainbows. God, how I adore her.

As soon as she settled herself in the back of car, Elaine shot us with a barrage of questions about how we were doing, how was the opening, how amazing it was that I was on her side of the country…etc…you get the drift. Emma drove us to Knightsbrook…I think it was called, but I could be wrong. Its just on the outskirts of Trim, and consists of a large housing estate, and a massive hotel, and golf corse.

The ceilings were very high, and the main dining room was full for lunch. Women seated round tables, were choosing mini deserts off tiered cake stands, and talking with their cups of tea in hand. Teachers, Emma pointed out, from the local secondary school, ate their lunch at the next table, and from the large window, we had a view of the rolling greens outside.

The three of us got toasted wraps, which came with a little side salad and a handful of tortilla chips. After which me and Elaine got profitteroles and Emma got a sticky toffee pudding, which looked very sticky and yummy. The wraps were lovely and all conversation pretty much stood still while we were chowing down.

After our lovely lunch, we headed back in to Trim, and brought Elaine to the library, until it was time to drop us to out respective bus stops. It was SO good to see Laine0, really and truly. I miss her cute head more then I have words to sayJ But it gives me great comfort to know that no matter where we are all scattered in the country, we can arrange to meet up and it is just like old times. That makes me very happy to know.

Then Emma dropped me off at my bus stop, and that’s when I went back into slight panic mode. I know I wont be as nervous the next time I visit, because I know the area now, and Ill know what to expect and how to get there. But in my haste to jump out of the car, so she wouldn’t become an obstruction, I accidently ‘stole’ Emma’s scaf, which I had been holding onto in the car, and didn’t realize it until I was standing at the bus stop, and she was driving around the corner, on her way back to the Library. I rang her to let her know, and she laughed and just said to post it back down to her, which I will happily, if not slightly embarrassedly do tomorrow, after the town gets back to normal. Standing at the bus stop, I half listened to the couple sitting on the bench. They were planning on getting out at O’Connell street too, so that gave me some relief. I would get on to the bus that they got on to. When he did arrive, albeit a bit late, the driver didn’t have change to give me, so I gave him my 50 in good faith that he would remember me when I got off, and I wouldn’t have to pick a fight with him for my change.

I have a terrible habit of falling asleep while being transported, be it by train, bus, car, plane…once there is movement involved, I will generally fall asleep…So I really had to fight with myself to ignore the sun in my eyes and stay awake, so I wouldn’t miss my stop. I think it roughly took an hour to get in, and when I was getting off, the bus driver had my money in his hand for me.

The stop was about 4 streets away from where the luas line cuts across O’Connell street, so I walked up purposefully, like I knew exactly where I was going, and not like I was just visiting here from the Moon for the day. Getting the Luas ticket always unnerves me. There is usually some old crusty, dodgey looking fecker  standing right next to the machine waiting for you to give them money. Mostly Im with someone when I venture to Dublin, and this makes me feel that bit braver, so Im not as bothered by people asking me for money, I just pretend that I don’t understand English and ignore everything that’s going on around me. But lady luck was on my side and there wasn’t any of the regular folk skulking around the Luas stop. Maybe it was the time of day…roughly around 5 in the evening…maybe they are all in doorways and squats, shooting up around that time…So, I got my ticket and waited, making sure that I was on the right side of the street, and that I was going to the right place.

Dublin was nice yesterday…it nearly made up for all the bad experiences Ive had there. People were nice on the Luas, one man even offering his seat to me, which I declined, knowing that I would be sitting soon enough, for a long time on the train. Everyone seemed in good form, maybe it was the sunshine? Heuston was busy, but I still managed to get a seat after I had bought my ticket, and picked up a National Geographic and a drink. Then I just waited. Its better to be places early and have to wait, then be running late, and not make it.

Maybe I was sitting in the wrong place, because I didn’t notice the Westport train pulling in. So I was one of the last people to get on, eventhought I was boarding the train a half hour before departure. Ill definatley know for again to prebook my seats, because as soon as I had found an empty one, taken off my coat, and started reading the article I had bought the NG for, this old-ish man came up to me, and informed me that I was in his prebooked seat. Now, I had checked before sitting down at the little elongated digital oval just over the seat, to see if there was someones name spelled out in little green lights. So, seeing there was none, I sat down.

But no. He showed me his ticket, and then just stood there, nearly sitting in as I was getting up, and while I collected all my truffery, he didn’t seem best pleased. I tried to explain that pre-booked seats usually have the persons name above them, so unfortunate people like me don’t end up sitting in them, but that didn’t matter. Figureing that this would most likely happen again at the next seat I occupied, I went along into the next carriage, and hoped for the best.

I sat next to a girl with a lap top, and across from a lad. As we pulled off, another woman joined our table, with curly hair and probably in her late 20s, or early 30s. She started reading her book, so I opened my NG and started the article again, now confident that I wouldn’t be ousted from my seat.

I would safely say, about 20 minutes into our journey, an man joined our carriage. He  sat ontop of the table at the next group of people infront of us, and started talking, well, pure shite. Things about the economy and Bertie, and I don’t know what else. And inbetween statements, f-ing and blinding, and telling short stories, he played the spoons. No one was impressed at first. The two people sitting next to me, sort of sniggered at him under their breathe, and the woman sitting across from me shot me a glance that I could feel mimicked on my own face, one of slight irritation and annoyance.

That’s the best way I could describe him. Annoying. I couldn’t understand what he was saying because there were so so many curses in every sentence, that they lost all meaning halfway through. And the spoons, the one sequence he knew, was aggravating, not charming. After having the craic in our carriage for about 20 minutes, and totally destroying all my concentration to the point where I had to reread the article I was so looking forward to, all over again, he made his way into the next carriage. There was a audible sigh of relief from a lot of the passengers, and also a half whispered discussion about the man after he was safely out of earshot.

But he came back, about 10 minutes later, and this time, the lads at the top of the carriage were ready for him. The lads, about 16 or 17, weren’t going to let this guy have all the fun. So anytime he came out with some jem of shite, they had a comeback for him, and the whole carriage would laugh. At one point, the man said his philosophy for life, which I didn’t quite catch, mostly because it didn’t make any sense, to which one of the lads shouted up “Obviously didn’t work, did it!” to which most of the people chuckled along with. The man was quiet for a good long while, then started talking about how excieted he was for Paddy’s…and I stop listening, and hoped he would get off soon, because the constantly rattleing of his spoons was cutting through me. One of the lads asked him to play Rhianna, everyone laughed, it went on like that until he, and quite a few people got off at Tullamore.

Maybe it was the dark outside, but the train journey seemed to take forever. Eventually we got to Claremorris, and I jumped out. I had to wait for Eoghain to collect me, which didn’t take long. I don’t think Ive even gotten the train to Claremorris, so I didn’t risk walking in to the town, because I didn’t know  which direction the town was in, or how close it was.

He pulled up, and we sped off home. He asked about the exhibition, and how the girls were, and how everything went in general. He seemed tired, I guess he was travelling a lot yesterday too. Mum was just home from work when we got back, and she was making herself dinner. I showed her the piece I bought off Emma and she oooed and ahed, and liked it a lot. Eoghain gave me the break down for Paddy’s, and I had a cup of tea and went straight to bed, too tired to do anything but sleep.

This morning, I woke up at about 9, I have no idea why, because I could have slept for a lot longer. After I let the dogs out and had a bit of breakfast, mum got up, and we went for a walk down to the river, because I had a pounding headache and she thought the walk would clear it. We talked a bit about different things. And she mentioned how she wants to put a rought iron bench down at the river over the summer so she can sit and listen to the water. I thought that was really sweet, so Im going to make sure that happens soon.

I made pancakes for me and eoghain when he got up, and mum went to mass. It doesn’t feel like Paddy’s day. I don’t really know what paddy’s day is supposed to feel like, but today just feels like anyother day, except eoghain is here.

Im just after dropping him into town, and I have my phone next to me, awaiting a txt from him, at some stage asking for a lift, somewhere else.

The sun is breaking through outside, and the worst of today’s weather seems to has subsided for the time being. Hopefully the next couple of days will be nice.   

It's show and tell time!

Heaven is: A freshly made cup of real coffee

Bliss is: Watching your cat snooze on your bed

Happiness is: Being loaned a pile of National Geographics, and perusing them at your leisure...finding lots of goodies inside!

Some things that I am being drawn to, like a moth to light, or a horse to water...there is something about the shapes, the people I don't have any connection to...that is inspiring me at the moment. Thursday...Thursday I will start to make these into realizations. Try to pin certain things down, or at least figure out what is drawing me to this particular point to drink?

What is it that Im trying to say. When I know that, Ill start working.

In other news: I put plastic over my poor beloved strawberry plants that martina gifted to me, today.

There was a freak break in the weather this afternoon. I took the bull by the horns, and went out and started tidying up the place. We have several 'grassy' plants, thats the best way I can describe them...and they shed, I guess you could say, during the winter. Now, I have never been home at this time of year, Im usually at college, So, horns in hand, I ventured out, not really sure what I was to do, And began raking the sheded grass. Pulled out all the dead everything that had collected beneath the main grassy plant, and under our two mini weeping willows, then proceeded to dead head...or stalk, my colony of lupins, that have spread themselves far and wide, thankfully, because we all love them. Basically, anything that looked dead, I pulled out...anything that looked dead, but I thought should prolie stay, I left. The last thing I wanted to do was pull something thats not meant to be pulled.

I also repotted my aloe vera, which has my heart broken even since that strap, Suzie, ran into it a few months ago, knocking it out of its pot. So Its been repotted, and if it isn't happy where it is now, I give up and Ill throw it into the thicket, because I cant look at it being sad anymore, its too depressing.

Also, Im making headway on Allison's dress, which is good. As Ive never made a dolls dress before, its all a learning experience, so Im not being too hard on myself...

What else...

I think thats pretty much it. I made an awesome dinner for me and mum tonight

Roasted carrot, parsnip and sweet potato...Stir fried veg which garlic and chili, Lemon and Pepper Sole...and a side salad with home made dressing ! nom NOMMY num nom

It was good...clean plates...always a good sign :)

Off to bed now, places to go and people to see tomorrow :)

Excitement, and updates to follow

xx

!

I am having such a GOOD day, and I cant stress that enough :)
Im a little cold, but right now, that is at the back of my mind.

This morning, I received a lovely txt from Dear Jane, which started me off on my rambling way of loveliness today. I did a very quick sketch this morning of something I want to start tonight.
I have allowed myself to spend as long on it as I feel I have to. Im not in college anymore, so Im not restricted to get something done in a day. Im going to enjoy this, if it takes two days, or two weeks, two months or two years. Theres no sense in forcing it. I have a whole body of work in my head. Ive been researching for months, and I think its now time to start making the work that Ive been dreaming about since before I even started college.
My work
And it really will be mine. There wont be any interfering or questioning or arguing or heartache. It will be bliss, absolutely.
Im so looking forward to it, My heart is ACTUALLY RACING Im that excited...I don't know when the last time I got that excited over the prospect of drawing before !


Among all other things today, I dyed my hair, did my errands in town, fed the animals, walked around the garden a bit, side stepped with Reilly, now I just have to do a few tweaky bits with one of my other many projects, and then the evening is mine, to do what I like with :)

You should see my face, pure glee

(^.^)

I had such a lovely day, I really did.
The weather left a lot to be desired, but once you get over that, and sort of accept its skitzophrenic tendencies, everything else is just a bonus.
I went for a drive to Castlebar, to run some errands with Jane...good excuse to get a chance to drive around Castlebar really...which is sorely needed. We went to the resource centre, where I picked up lots of really nice, useable, things. After hearing about the wonder of the resource centre for years, I finally laid my little peepers on it, and boy did it not disappoint in any way shape or form. My bed is still covered with my findings...
Then we popped down to the charity shops where I picked up some baby's clothes for my recently dusted off, American girl doll. I obviously have to do a number on the clothes, as they are all WAY too big, but itl be a nice little project, along with all my other little projects :)
If I was doing half the amount Im thinking of doing, Id be flying it.
Ill start tomorrow...as in today... o.O
Darted to easons, where I grabbed a 3 pack of sketch books, cant go wrong there...Then back up the town to the other charity shops, where low and behold, I came across a sheet set with the x-men, among others, on it. I don't know what Im going to do with it just yet, but it has definitely found a good home :)
Then, headed on down to Tesco and picked up a few little treats...some Curiosity Cola...and had a picnic in the car with Jane, which was really nice ^_^


Back home, I had to collect my beloved dogs from nana's house, via the Shelly Mobile, because they have taken a habit of wandering over there...Of course the weather decided to changed DRAMATICALLY and began to hail as I pulled up. They were all wet and looked quite sorry for themselves as they hopped into the back of the car.
Brats.
I called in to nana, she was grand, sitting next to the fire :)


After doing all that needed to be done at home, donkeys, dogs and cats fed and watered, called back round to Pages for a bit to sort out some stuff. Then landed back home to find this little message waiting for me...talking about him/me/us not getting into the finalists for the beatport Pioneer dj equipment competition :)
That scones with cocaine sign he has as his profile picture, is located just as your coming into Bally-happy-dreams. The first time I saw it, Me and mum were going up to monaghan early one morning, and I was half asleep, so I thought I had imagined it.
Nope.


:)

facebook

Eoghain sent you a message. Eoghain Carroll10 March 2011 at 09:57 its ok man, i wouldnt worry bout it. ur work was amazing and im sure it wasnt even half as amazing as you could have done based on the shit i have seen you do and the time restrictions u were under..... thank god.. and i saw loads of other pics i would have picked instead of the ones that got through.. but going on beat port comps i been looking at other ones that are mix comps they are in general shite soo to be fair we were just to good and im happy with that :) so dont worry bout it and ill get my dream set up some day :):) night just back from daedalus and i posted that letter back yesterday so shud be home soon.. nightt xxxx

The (B) Project is starting to take flight. I showed her this tonight and she thought it was the business :) I nearly couldnt get the computer back off her :)
Im starting to see wings out of the corners of my eyes !