It’s just two weeks now until The Enchanted Life is officially published. In some ways, it seems like an age has passed since I handed the final manuscript over to my editor at the beginning of October; in other ways it seems all too recent, as I find myself...
O body swayed to music, O brightening glance, How can we know the dancer from the dance? W. B. Yeats At the still point of the turning world, there the dance is. Are you dancing yet? In Hindu mythology Shiva, as Shiva Nataraja, is Lord of the Dance – of the Tandava,...
Yesterday afternoon, a curious thing happened here in the hills of Connemara. A young boy got out of a car which was presumably driven by a parent, walked up our drive, and knocked on the door. We opened it to find that he was holding a live wren in a jar, with a few...
Yes, there’s some overlap in these recent posts; after all, I’m making it up as I go along. Each early morning with a notebook brings a new set of reflections to add to the soup. Dream-makers, memory-keepers, storytellers – in a sense, they’re all...
Dream-making, yes – that’s one part of what’s needed in this crazy, on-the-brink world. But there’s something rather more than that which was nagging at me as I was writing yesterday’s post, and it came to me last night, in the middle of a...
Well, we’re back to caves again. You can’t get too much cave, at midwinter. At this time of year I feel very bear-like, drawn to the warm darkness of my dreaming-cave. It’s a time for dreaming, for sure. For me, this year is a time for dreaming up...
