Oh, the Places Self Will Go

This week’s Daily Post Photo Challenge is

WANDERLUST

  • Have you traveled anywhere exciting lately? This week, let’s see where you’ve been. — David W., The Daily Post

Here’s a wee artwork that artist Bernadette Burns (who lives on Sherkin Island, West Cork — self met her at the Tyrone Guthrie Centre) left behind in her studio. Self taped to it to her MacBook Air as an emblem of what she loves to do, wander:

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On Self’s MacBook Air: A Memento From Another Artist

Here’s a shot of Annaghmakerrig Lake in early March. The wind was blowing hard that day. Self was fascinated by the ripples on the lake’s surface and by the outline of trees on the far shore. She would never have known this lake if she weren’t seized by such wanderlust:

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Annagmakerrig Lake: Cold Day in Early March

And here’s a picture of the view from Albion River Inn, California, where she spent New Year’s. And began writing a new story, called The Rorqual, which is about a sea invasion of Earth (by creatures called Longnecks). It was the first New Year’s she spent completely by herself, and she made the most of it.

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Albion, California: January 2017

Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.

#amreading: More Poetry

Vona Groarke, from her poem Maize, in the Annaghmakerrig book:

(Self will copy this poem into her journal, so that a year or five years or 10 years from now, she will remember she read it today, Friday, the 28th of April 2017):

The Faber Castells ripen in your hand.
You’ve been drawing since breakfast:
sky after sky, face after face, but something
in yours says they’re not quite right.

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Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.

In Honor of Earth Day 2017, #amreading

Shackleton’s Journey by William Grill (Flying Eye Books)

This is a grrrreat children’s book which gives a clear picture of the difficulties faced, through spare illustrations that evoke the truly epic nature of Shackleton’s journey.

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There’s a quote from Roald Amundsen on the publication information page:

  • No man fails who sets an example of high courage, of unbroken resolution, of unshrinking endurance.

— Roald Amundsen

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Self absolutely loves it.

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Stay tuned.

What the Writing Desk Looks Like Today, 17 April 2017

Writing. Writing and reading. Like mad.

Also, checking Facebook, lol

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The card on the MacBook is from Jacinta Oreilly, an artist from Dublin.

The small picture taped to my keyboard is from Bernadette Burns, an artist from Skibbereen, West Cork.

Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.

Security = Happiness

  • Share a photo that depicts your interpretation of security . . .  It could be a worry stone you keep in your pocket or that favorite tee shirt that makes you feel awesome every time you put it on.

— Krista, The Daily Post

I can never be creative unless I have an absolute feeling of security. I always have that in Annaghmakerrig.

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In the Tyrone Guthrie Centre, I sleep next to my writing desk. Because life is too short.

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Main House, the Tyrone Guthrie Centre at Annaghmakerrig

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The Main House, Under a Crescent Moon

Finished a story yesterday! A continuation to Magellan’s Mirror. Also, ordering more copies of self’s Mayor of the Roses.

Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.

#amreading Tom Holland: RUBICON

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Rubicon: The Triumph and Tragedy of the Roman Republic, by Tom Holland

Finalist for the Samuel Johnson Prize

One of the Guardian’s Books of the Year

Published 2003 by Abacus, an imprint of Little, Brown Book Group

Self is hugely enjoying the narrative sweep. Holland will not give you dates on every page, but you will learn much about narrative rhythm.

Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.

More Density in Annaghmakerrig

Self loves looking at things up close. Very, very up close.

But she also loves looking for patterns.

And she also works (in her writing) through layering, which is more the way a visual artist works.

And this week, in Annaghmakerrig (more specifically, the Tyrone Guthrie Centre), she found many, many opportunities to elaborate on The Daily Post Photo Challenge this week, DENSE:

Pillows and bedcovers:

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Pillow and Blanket: Self loves the saturation of color. Also, she’s never seen a white so blinding as it is here in Annaghmakerrig.

More trees! This shot self took yesterday evening. It had rained all day. Suddenly, around 7 p.m., sun!

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Annaghmakerrig, After a Day of Constant Rain

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Bernadette Burns: Whether it’s because she lives on an island (off Skibbereen, West Cork) and self’s father came from an island (in the Philippines), self saw so many affinities with her work. Look at the dark boat, floating on an ethereal sea. The boat looks amazingly DENSE, yet it floats.

Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.

What the Writing Desk Looks Like Today, 3 April 2017

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Art by Bernadette Burns, from Skibbereen, West Cork : http://www.bernadetteburns.com

Bernadette Burns left Tyrone Guthrie this morning, early.

She told self to go to her studio; she’d leave something.

A few minutes ago, self ran through rain, entered the studio, which was completely empty, ready for the next occupant.

On a table, a note and two prints.

#love #sobeautiful

This is what her studio looked like, just two days ago:

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Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.

The Body Is a Boat

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Bernadette Burns: Artist from Skibbereen, West Cork


The body is a boat that carries the soul in the ocean of the world.  If it is not strong, or it has a hole, then it cannot cross the ocean, so the first duty is to fix the boat.

— Baba Hari Dass

#amreadingpoetry: James Merrill

Fed
Up so long and variously by
Our age’s fancy narrative concoctions,
I yearned for the kind of unseasoned telling found
In legends, fairy tales, a tone licked clean
Over the centuries by mild old tongues,
Grandam to cub, serene, anonymous.
. . . So my narrative
Wanted to be limpid, unfragmented;
My characters, conventional stock figures
Afflicted to a minimal degree
With personality and past experience —
A witch, a hermit, innocent young lovers,
The kinds of being we recall from Grimm,
Jung, Verdi, and the commedia dell’arte.

— James Merrill, excerpt from the long poem The Changing Light at Sandover

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