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Masterful Use of a Potato

12/4/2017

7 Comments

 
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"Aingeal" - mixed media on reclaimed wood.  Inquiries.  Available at the Olive Stack Gallery.

The flat is bursting with creativity as my first guest has arrived!  Writer Avery Caswell  (aka Leslie) is here for the week to experience the magic of Listowel and its long history of writers, poets and storytellers.  Within the first 12 hours, we already had an adventure involving a chair, a stool, a lightbulb and a potato.  Oh and some wine.  I am calling it the "masterful use of a potato" adventure.  Let your mind wander a bit on that one.

The theme of excess continues...this time it isn't too many breakfasts, but too many pastries!  The counter is stacked high with goodies, including gorgeous cupcakes from Mary, eclairs from Damian, scones from Olive and a lovely banana bread from the farmer's market.  I'm not going to eat them this week.  I'll just stuff them right inside my clothes because, one way or another, I am wearing them.  Listowel is not for dieters.
Sunday morning found us up early and out in a misty rain.   
I believe I've found my next career.  Who doesn't want to work in a castle?

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We hiked down to the cemetery to commune with a flock of rooks and jackdaws.  They clearly own the area, and refused to give way to a couple of wandering tourists.
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The rain passed by and left us with a double rainbow and gorgeous sun shining through water-drenched branches.
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We ended our morning's adventure with breakfast at the Maid of Erin, where beans are served with breakfast.  It makes me smile, so why not?

Bright sunshine was perfect for painting and writing while customers popped in the gallery in search of Listowel's now famous coloring book.

To top off Leslie's first full day, a gorgeous dinner at Eabha Joans  (pronounced AVA JONES)  and her first ever Guinness at John B's, where the one and only Billy Keane was there to greet her.  The magic of lovely Listowel!
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The church tower at the end of the cemetery stands crumbling.  Built in the 1700's on top of the ruins of a 13th century church, it beckons you to come closer and learn its secrets.
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7 Comments
Carol Edan link
12/4/2017 08:54:17 am

I am bewildered and curious about the story and also the creature? beside "Aingeal" ? Could that have something to do with a potato? That must have been a special piece of wood, maybe a cabinet door? love the special frame effect. and her dress... to die for! Your photos are exquisite. Waiting for the story!

Reply
jen
12/4/2017 03:24:29 pm

Carol! Beside Aingeal (Angel in Irish) is her wings (well, actually attached to her). The story is so silly...a lightbulb on a vaulted ceiling needed to be changed. We had no ladder! So a stool balanced on top of a chair. And then to discover the bulb was broken off inside the fixture. Leslie says "use a potato to safely unscrew the broken piece". So I am on top of a stool on top of a chair, using a potato to unscrew a lightbulb. And guess what? It worked!

The wood is a press (cabinet) door, just as you suspected. The dress is hand painted tissue paper. Thank you, sweet one, for following along on this journey. SO amazing!

Reply
Carol Edan link
12/5/2017 12:04:44 am

After reading Dotty's post I realized that they were wings LOL made from potato chips, Funny how shapes are interpreted! In my minds eye I can see you on the stool, stool on the chair. Wish I could pull that image off. Off to class!

Dotty Seiter link
12/4/2017 09:57:36 am

AINGEAL, with her potato chip wings : )

You are on fire, Jen! LOVE the arresting rectangle-within-rectangle. And I love the textures and subtle value variations in the background and wings.

Carry on!

Reply
jen
12/4/2017 03:25:38 pm

Dotty! Now I want to eat her wings! And thank you so very much. I love this sweet one. I'm using a phone for photos here instead of my Nikon, so wish you could see this one live. She is a beauty!

Reply
Carl Stoveland
12/4/2017 10:27:52 am

What a great way to spend Sunday. Sounds marvelous!!

Reply
Jen
12/4/2017 03:21:23 pm

Carl! It was indeed. Blissful!!!

Reply



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Here's the blue wild, where
tiny dreamers ride beasts, speak
​ birdsong, hold the moon.

(by poet Mary W. Cox)
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​Art prints available on request
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