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Hearts Planted

12/24/2017

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"Inch Beach, Dingle" - mixed media on paper, 15" x 11".  Sold.

Yesterday was a perfect paint day.

Mild temperatures, no rain.  Bridget arrived mid-day and we created for hours and hours. Have I mentioned she is a natural abstractionist?  So much joy in the creating, so much sadness in knowing this is the last time for now.

The family hiked along the River Feale, through the park and the Garden of Europe and to the cemetery once more in search of long lost ancestors.
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Sunset, Listowel

Fairies dropped gifts at the door last evening.  Packages appeared in nooks.  Gorgeous, thoughtful, generous.  My niece said it perfectly..."my heart hurts - how can you leave here?"  And so we won't fully leave Ireland, but will plant a piece of our hearts in this town, with these people, among the cliffs and patchwork hills and oceans and cows and rain.  

Revelers took over the pubs and streets last night.  It seemed every young person in Ireland was making merry outside the window.  It was a dramatic contrast to what we expect tomorrow, when the entire town will be closed for the day.  

This post is random, meandering.  My thoughts are in a swirl - so much left to do here, so much waiting when I return home in a few days.  So many experiences, such heartfelt connections.  My heart is full to bursting, and yet I want a little bit more.  
My family will enjoy one last tour today, through the Gap of Dunloe as the sun rises this morning.  They will chase the views, breathe the air, feel the wind on their cheeks as the ultimate tour guide, Damian Stack, does what he does best - connect hearts with this wild country.

But before I go through this entire box of tissues, there is time left!  Off I go to welcome this day, Christmas Eve in Listowel.  Wherever you are, I wish you the happiest of holidays and the fullest of hearts, and a hearty "ho-ho-ho" on your rooftop tonight.
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Get Along, Little Dogie

12/22/2017

3 Comments

 
​"Get Along, Little Dogie" - acrylic on aquabord, 6" x 6".  Inquiries.  Available at the Olive Stack Gallery.

We've gone mad for cows.  

I realize this may be quite funny to those who see them daily, but we've been cow-deprived in our family.  My niece says, "they have the wisdom of the world in their eyes, but they can't tell anyone."  And so it is.

It was a local day.  In the gallery, in the studio, out of our our mud-laden boots and into lighter layers.  The lads shopped the town while I painted.  Treats appeared from folks who dropped in, including Olive's mum, who provided whisky-soaked chocolates and garden stones to be painted.  Ahhhh.  I am so grateful.
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The time is growing short; the day of departure draws near.  My heart is happy for holidays, visiting family, continued adventure and daily joy of Irish living.  My heart is also heavy with goodbyes looming.  The soft pace of small-town living has lodged itself in my soul. I want to bring it home with me.
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The time flies quickly now - wasn't it just Monday? Hurrying, scurrying to do everything we haven't yet done, to soak up as much enchantment as we can hold.

A call to the airline reveals we cannot take cows home with us.  Nor sheep nor goats nor mountains nor the sea.  Not castles nor abbeys nor quaint towns.  One of these cows had already packed her luggage.  I hate to let her down. :)
There was a funeral in town today.  A woman 96 years young.  The shops closed their doors as the hearse passed through.  It crept along slowly, attendants in black walking on foot beside it, accompanying her to the final resting place.

As we waited behind closed doors, conversation turned to the woman, her life, her death, her burial.  A few minutes of focus on the woman passing by.  A few moments of respect, hushed voices and reverence.

A gorgeous tradition, this pause.  I will hold the thought close.
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3 Comments

The Top of the World

12/21/2017

10 Comments

 
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Thursday.  A whirlwind tour, sunup to sundown and beyond.  Our guides, Damian Stack and Ger Greaney, began with a run up to Knockanure in the early morning mist.  On the left, and aging cemetery of Celtic crosses and stone walls.  On the right, in the middle of a farmer's field, a fairy fort.  High on the hill, surrounded by tall trees, a circle of legend and bones which none would enter.  
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Off we raced through the countryside, up mountains of desolate, untamed land, through valleys quilted with verdant farms.  A quick stop at Glenquin Castle, a 16th century tower house in intact form.  Closed for the season, but we could peer inside through slotted walls and imagine the landowner and lord of this castle inviting us in for tea.
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Which is nearly exactly what happened, except the landowners were none other than Con and Lily Greaney, Ger's parents.  In another "this only happens in Ireland" story, two cars and seven people pulled up for an unplanned stop, were invited in for tea, homemade bread, cake, a farm tour, and hugs and an invitation to return.  Incredible hospitality, openheartedness and, well, donkeys.  It doesn't get better than this.
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​Con Greaney is the son of another Con Greaney, the famous traditional Irish singer, whose vocal styling and good humor were legendary.

Let's pause here and enjoy a little "Nancy Hogan's Goose" from 1997.
Too soon, we sped away from our lovable host and hostess to our main destination for the day,  Knockfierna (the Hill of the Fairies).   A long hike in the mist and wind, up, up, up on a dirt trail where the footprints of cattle left mud craters and, um, patties.
 
​We climbed through famine houses left behind in the mid 1800's, when families fled to this hill of common land to escape eviction and starvation.

Views to the left of us, views to the right.  And dueling voices...Ger Greaney with history, folklore and anthropological observations and Damian Stack with show tunes, bawdy jokes and witticisms.  
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​And then we were at the top.  A 360 degree view of six surrounding counties.  Ireland, in all her glory, as far as the eye could see.  Birds floated on wind drafts below us.  Hush and awe.
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The sun broke through the clouds for our descent.  The cows watched us watching them.  Brief thoughts of bringing one home.
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There were more stops on the way back to Listowel.  Churches from centuries past, whispering secrets as the sun dropped and the shadows emerged.
Our magical tour with skilled guides came to an end.  Weary, mud-covered travelers were ready to end the day. Until Ger Greaney admonished us to get off our lazy butts (well, not those words exactly, but that was the gist of it) and get out for the evening for traditional Irish music.  And so we did.

​Trad music at Christy's  was well worth the late night.  Many thanks to Billy Keane for the recommendation!  And now enjoy a little sample for yourself...
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Wild Atlantic II

12/20/2017

8 Comments

 

​​"Wild Atlantic II" - mixed media on paper, 22" x 16".  Inquiries.  Available at the Olive Stack Gallery.


Hurry, Hurry!
The farm is awake
cows are singing
​let's go

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Bridget provides
farm fashion footwear
​toasty toes
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baby cows
baby baby
ooh!  aaaah!
​sweetness
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Too soon, we're off
up the hill
to the top of the world
we catch our breath
​beauty 

Views of heavy mist
shrouding fertile fields
we walk
these boots were made
​for walking
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Shift
here comes the rain
let's go to the beach
​the beach, the wild and wonderful beach
Irish caves are calling
surf responds
soaked tourists smiling
our hearts sing
​
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swirling wind and wave and voice
​melody and

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harmony.
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Wild Atlantic

12/19/2017

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"Wild Atlantic" - mixed media on paper, 22" x 14".  Inquiries.  Available at the Olive Stack Gallery.

Time is racing by.
Only one week to go.
Let's chase the setting sun.
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Stone, mud, bones.
Read the names.
​Listen.
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Rooks watch the setting sun
from treetops
​night is falling
Silent shadow angels
sentinels
hark and hush

The names!  The names!
Long gone
eroded
crumbled
​shrouded
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The sun is gone
but light remains
we remember, we remember
​the flickers whisper
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Sadness here,
yet comfort 
lay your weary bones to rest
while we remember.





​On this, the  first holiday since the passing of our dad, the first Christmas without parents at all, there is comfort - comfort and joy - in the gathering of the sisters in a land far away.  New memories, new moments, washed in remembering, made holy.
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Confidence is the Key to Everything

12/19/2017

8 Comments

 
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"Confidence is the Key to Everything" - mixed media on paper, 30" x 22".  Inquiries.  Available at the Olive Stack Gallery.



After a post last week bemoaning the wardrobe habits of Americans vs. Europeans, there was a flurry of feedback, comments, shared stories and questions.  So I marched myself over to Mary O'Flaherty at the Design Space @ Chic Boutique and begged for some answers.  Inquiring minds want to know!

Let's set the mood a bit here first with a little video. 
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In 1980, Patricia O'Flaherty (Mary's mom) opened Chic Boutique on a shoestring budget and with a dream in her heart.  She was always drawn to fashion, and grabbed an unexpected opportunity to open her own shop.  Mary joined the business in 1987.  These women are self-taught, motivated, confident and inspired - all the right ingredients for entrepreneurship.  The shop was launched just as Irish design began a sort of renaissance, and has organically grown ever since.

Irish fashion design is centered around knitwear, as woolens and yarns are plentiful and the climate demands practical clothing - warm, dry and long-lasting.  The Aran sweater originated in Ireland, and is so iconic it is now on display at the New York Museum of Modern Art.  Of course, Irish designs have been elevated since then, but continue to be known for timeless, classic elegance.  In Chic Boutique, this timeless elegance has a contemporary twist, keeping the clothing neither too staid nor overly trendy.  Irish fashion is considered an investment which will stand the test of time, both in its durability and its ability to cross over seasons and trends with the addition of key accessories.
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Take this blue dress (wool crepe, silk lined) by Irish designer Sookyoung Song, for example.  It goes from day to night, from fun to serious with the addition of a few key pieces - a casual belt, freshwater pearls, varying hats (designer Aoife Harrison) or an evening wrap.  All the same dress, transformed by accessories.

But I am getting ahead of myself.

The starting point (and key), according to Mary, is to wear what suits your shape.  "If you follow fashion slavishly," she says, "you're going to get it wrong if it doesn't suit your shape."    She looks for sharp tailoring, a good cut, and good fabric.  Her advice is to consider the color, shape and fabric that is right for you - "if you follow this formula, you'll make no mistakes," says Mary.

She acknowledges, however, that affordability and availability can be an issue at times.  If you have to choose one of the three, she advises color be the top priority.  "The colors you were drawn to as a child, in general, will suit your skin tone."  Mary's advice appeals to my inner child, who loves blues, pinks, purple and teal.
This black silk dress, by Irish designer Natalie King,  is timeless in its style, suitable for many occasions and flattering to most shapes.  Notice the details - back zipper, pleats, texture.

Dressing individual body shapes is the expertise of independent retailers, like Chic Boutique.   "There is no shape that can't be worked with," says Mary.  "Follow the lines of your body; choose draping that is kind."
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Now watch this little black dress flex its fashion muscle...
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The addition of a cashmere wrap (Maggie Knits), then a fancy broach takes this from day, to evening, to formal.
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And then the coat...oh, the coat!  Wool and patent leather, over top of the black dress.  And look at the profile on this gorgeous piece!  In Ireland, the coat is the primary clothing item that "carries you through weddings, funerals and  bar mitzvahs."
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I asked Mary for a prescription for a basic wardrobe.  The following is recommended for Ireland, but a variation of this will work in most climates:
  • a coat - this is the investment piece.  Add a coat and gloves over any outfit and you immediately look dressed!
  • well-cut trousers in a neutral (generally black)
  • a dress - classic, well-tailored (often black)
  • a pencil skirt
  • a crisp, white shirt
  • a silk blouse with either color, pattern or both
  • rainwear
The rest is all accessories.  Silk and cashmere scarves, leather gloves, jewelry, hats, shoes, boots, belts and handbags.  The accessories take neutrals to another level.  By changing accessories, the clothes transform from one season to another, and remain on trend.  For example, mustard is this season's color here.
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Although Irish designers are the primary feature in Chic Boutique, Italian luxury clothing has a place as well.  For the more casual lads (like yours truly), a silk blouse over black pants is a smashing success with this tweed jacket.  The gloves - holy mackerel - buttery leather, silk-lined.  

Now of course I am salivating at the thought of an entirely new wardrobe of perfect clothing.  But the reality is we often have good clothes in our closets which simply aren't working for us anymore.  Sometimes these are quality, structured pieces, but we no longer go to an office each day.   Mary's advice is to break up these outfits.  Old suit skirts can become your "little black skirt" when separated from the jacket.  The jacket can be fabulous over jeans and a crisp, white shirt.  "Better broken up and worn than together and unworn," says Mary.  Of course, a few updated accessories can change the whole look without breaking the bank.

There was a little "aha" moment when we began discussing cost, fast-fashion and the numbers of pieces in most women's wardrobes in the USA.  Mary told me the average women spends 50-100 euros per week on clothing, rather than invest in fewer pieces of a higher quality, because budget is the primary focus.  Over a year, that adds up to 2500-5200 euros (about $6,100).    A high-end wardrobe of a few key pieces can be acquired for half that cost, will last longer, and will consist only of items you want and love.  "If you wear what you love, what you feel good in," says Mary, "you will behave differently, walk differently."  "Confidence," she says, "is the key to everything."
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​Many thanks to Mary O'Flaherty for the generous gift of her time, wisdom and a fabulous early morning "show and tell" demonstration in her boutique.  You can follow Mary and the Irish designers she features on Facebook.
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Vulnerable

12/18/2017

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​"Vulnerable" - acrylic on cardboard, 12" x 12".  Inquiries.  Available at the Olive Stack Gallery.

Today, we take a brief pause in our magical month in lovely Listowel, County Kerry, Ireland.  

​It seems time marches on in the world outside this enchanted land.  In a move which still has me shaking my head in disbelief, the current administration in Washington, D.C. decided to ban words.  That's right, in the land of guaranteed free speech, the government has banned one of its own agencies, the Center for Disease Control, from using seven words. On the list: "diversity," "fetus," "transgender," "vulnerable," "entitlement," "science-based" and "evidence-based."
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Before I launch into a tirade, I cannot help but remember the amazing George Carlin and his bit called "Seven Dirty Words."  I now want to run through the streets yelling TOPOGRAPHY and PNEUMONIA,  just because George says I can.

Note: the video includes bad, dirty, unseemly, foul, bawdy, naughty, saucy, lewd, off-color and other language.  If you're sensitive to such, maybe don't watch this one. :)
Thanks to our government, we now know there are additional words which should not be used in conjunction with saving lives and protecting those who are, ahem,  "exposed to the possibility of being attacked or harmed, either physically or emotionally."  Well, they said not to use the word, but didn't say the definition of the word was outlawed.  Perhaps the CDC could simply include the definition of the banned words wherever they might need to use the word?  I mean, the "unborn or unhatched offspring of a mammal, in particular an unborn human more than eight weeks after conception" might take up more space in a report, but at least everyone will know exactly what the CDC is referring to.

Or perhaps we could just assign them names.  "Transgender" could be referred to as "Sue."  "Evidence-based" could be "Stephen."  An appendix could be included in each report, allowing the reader to clearly understand the text.  I am writing a letter to the CDC with my recommendations as soon as I finish my coffee.  I wonder if they will be permitted to read my letter if it includes these banned words?  Or will the letter be redacted?

​Maybe the CDC could include in its reports hyperlinks to websites that explain these words in lieu of the actual words themselves.  The Science Council has a lovely definition on its home page:  Science is the pursuit and application of knowledge and understanding of the natural and social world following a systematic methodology based on evidence.  

And don't even get me started on the ban of the word DIVERSITY.  

While the government continues its march against the use of words, I plan to increase my use of them exponentially.  I might even put them on a t-shirt, in case I am so mad I can barely speak.

​We now return to our regularly scheduled programming in Listowel.
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A Soft Day

12/17/2017

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​"Majella" - mixed media on wood, 18" x 6".  Inquiries.  Available at the Olive Stack Gallery.
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The leaving is so hard...my .sweet guests made their way home yesterday, even as Damian Stack, Mary O'Flaherty, Olive Stack and myself sang "Leaving on a Jet Plane" as they departed from the gallery late in the day.  Two hearts leaving a little piece of themselves here in lovely Listowel.

But life marches on, and Bridget and I spent seven hours (SEVEN HOURS!!!!) painting magical abstracts in the studio. It was ABSTRACT MADNESS, I tell you!  Joy over joy over joy.  There is no greater pleasure than following the muse all day long, tra-la-la, fiddle-dee-dee because life is our oyster and painting is what we do!  It left me feeling quite magnificent, as Bridget (who swears she never painted before) is a natural master of abstracts, and so I also felt like a masterful teacher.  Even though it was fairies making the whole thing work (well, fairies and PURPLE SNACKS, a whole new treat I had never tasted before!)...anyway, magic was made and it softened the sadness of dear ones leaving on a jet plane.
Our darling Carolyn did manage to squeeze in a marathon elfing session at the Lartigue Monorail and Polar Express before she left Listowel.  I know a certain choir was happy for her enthusiastic singing and sincere elfing around.  

​I had a quiet dinner at the Horseshoe Pub, where a holiday meal was on the menu and Christmas merrymakers were all around.  Holiday parties are a serious affair here!  I wondered at the ability of Irish women to wear incredible sparkly high-heels in the cold and rain.
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It is a "soft" day here, with clouds and mist and softly falling drizzle.  The perfect day to mind the gallery, paint and get ready for new guests tomorrow.  

I will leave you with this bit of knowledge, courtesy of the great philosophers at the 6 to 9 Club at John B's - in Ireland a woman is never called a whore, but a man is called a hoor (which can also mean whore, but is a "difficult or unpleasant thing").  And here is John B himself expound on how to properly use the word.
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Sweet Listowel

12/15/2017

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"Stacked" - acrylic on reclaimed teak board.  Inquiries.  Available at the Olive Stack Gallery.

​Finally, finally.  The long teak board from Bridget's barn finds its form.  Nearly six feet tall with a thin profile and three of my favorite Irish characters.  I smile each time I pass by this one...sassy rabbit says "hold still down there" while the sheep wonders why she is standing on a predator.  Foxy is annoyed with the entire exercise.

It was the last full day for my guests, who filled every moment of the day and into the wee hours of the night.  The time for leaving clearly weighs heavy on their hearts, as I believe this land has captured their love as much as it has mine.

We had tickets for St. John's last night, where a holiday show featuring singer Claire Keane and friends was utterly spectacular.
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Keane's voice was pure and true, bringing tears to our eyes.  Irish dancers delighted the audience with their skill, glittery costumes and the exuberance of youth.  Traditional Irish flute music was new for me, and I am enchanted by the instrument, its sounds and the soulful renderings of the flautist.

There was poetry by Gabriel Fitzmaurice in both Irish and English, both serious and hilarious as only he can do.
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The gorgeous music of Mickey McConnell blended well with Claire Keane in Silent Night...and then my favorite, Lidl and Aldi, whose lyrics I knew nearly by heart and couldn't help but sing along.  If you haven't heard this before, here it is for your enjoyment.  If you have heard it before, you'll likely want to listen again. :)
Host Billy Keane was dapper and eloquent, even giving a shout out to the North Carolinians seated next to me.  His performance of his own poem, The Star Man, written about his father, was the essence of everything about Listowel which makes our hearts find a home here.
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The gang ended the evening at John B's, where Billy signed books, Mickey shared philosophy and three sleepy Americans wondered how to get an Irish pub on every street corner at home.

For today, dear reader, I leave you with ​Sweet Listowel...
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Some Enchanted Evening

12/15/2017

6 Comments

 
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It was a magical evening, with beautiful people fighting wind, rain and cold to attend the exhibition opening.  The room was bright, warm and inviting.  A respite from the weather and darkness outside.
"Trading Secrets" - mixed media on press (cabinet) wood.  Inquiries.  Available at the Olive Stack Gallery.

Over the river and through the woods. Past the cemetery and several farms.  Out of town.  My stalwart travel companions were on a mission to make a floral arrangement for Olive's exhibition.  The freezing rain was sleeting into their faces, but with heads tucked down they forged ahead toward the floral shop.  Which they passed miles back, but didn't know because...their heads were tucked down.  But ultimately the flowers were gorgeous and their efforts were grand.  Trina is the flower whisperer.  Shhhh.
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There were ooohs and aaahs and red dots, wine, chocolate brussels sprouts (for real!) and laughter.  And art.  Oh!  The art!
What a joyous event for me, with friends across continents meeting for the first time. Friends I've missed (including one delightful girl who understands the fairies much better than I do) shared smiles and hugs and stories..  Connecting in Ireland is a real thing.  People  take the time to care, connect, listen and share.
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The opening may be over and the wine glasses tucked away, but the show remains up and you're very welcome to stop by...the weather outside is frightful, but in here it's all delightful!
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Here's the blue wild, where
tiny dreamers ride beasts, speak
​ birdsong, hold the moon.

(by poet Mary W. Cox)
​


​Art prints available on request
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