Best. Greetings cards. Ever!

Don’t you agree?  They’re from Shop Sapling Press on Etsy in collaboration with Dear Blank, Please Bank. Check out the shop for more!

The Fairy Folk of Donegal, Part I

"The Fairies"
by William Allingham (1824-1889)

Up the airy mountain
    Down the rushy glen,
We dare n't go a-hunting,
    For fear of little men;
Wee folk, good folk,
    Trooping all together;
Green jacket, red cap,
    And white owl's feather.
Down along the rocky shore
    Some make their home,
They live on crispy pancakes
    Of yellow tide-foam;
Some in the reeds
    Of the black mountain-lake,
With frogs for their watch-dogs,
    All night awake.

High on the hill-top
    The old King sits;
He is now so old and gray
    He's nigh lost his wits.
With a bridge of white mist
    Columbkill he crosses,
On his stately journeys
    From Slieveleague to Rosses;
Or going up with music,
    On cold starry nights,
To sup with the Queen,
    Of the gay Northern Lights.

They stole little Bridget
    For seven years long;
When she came down again
    Her friends were all gone.
They took her lightly back
    Between the night and morrow;
They thought she was fast asleep,
    But she was dead with sorrow.
They have kept her ever since
    Deep within the lake,
On a bed of flag leaves,
    Watching till she wake.

By the craggy hill-side,
    Through the mosses bare,
They have planted thorn trees
    For pleasure here and there.
Is any man so daring
    As dig them up in spite?
He shall find the thornies set
    In his bed at night.

Up the airy mountain
    Down the rushy glen,
We dare n't go a-hunting,
    For fear of little men;
Wee folk, good folk,
    Trooping all together;
Green jacket, red cap,
    And white owl's feather. 

It’s only dawned on me that I’ve never actually posted that poem before, which is mad considering it’s probably one of the most famous fairy poems ever and it’s by a Donegal man about Donegal fairies!  Granted, Mr Allingham was from the other end of the county but that’s still just down the road really. And sure don’t I know the area well. I even spent a lovely long summer as a teenager down with the fairy king in verse two there. I can tell you, ‘tis an otherworldly place indeed.

Anyhow,  this isn’t actually the post on Donegal fairies I’d intended on.  I still have those folk tales for my friend Laura I said I’d post over a week ago. I did consider tacking them on at the end here but that’d make the post just far too long. Plus I’m lazy. So I’m sorry missus, but I hope it’s ok if I put them off just once more. Tomorrow, I promise! 

A Little Fairy Music

In response to all your requests following my post last week I’ve a couple of pictures of The Dress for you tonight. Before that though I just wanted to share my first proper attempt at digital collage. I was going to call this ‘Ceol na Sidhe’ when I uploaded it to Flickr, but considering most of my contacts on there are neither Irish nor fans of the fae I decided it might be a bit too obscure. If they were all like you folks then it wouldn’t have been a problem :)

I was actually going to save this post for my turn at fairy blogging over at The Whimsical Cottage on Tuesday, but I’m not really that pleased with how the picture turned out. Plus, I was planning on including links to some nice fairy-fit Irish folk music but couldn’t find any good stuff on YouTube or the like. The search made me realise the only way anyone should ever be allowed to listen to Trad music is in a packed pub with a few jars in them. Listening to it sober just reminded me of the boring ceilis I used to go to when I was wee. So instead I’m going to direct you to this lovely little written piece by Lady Wilde on the magical beauty of  the ceol-sidhe.  Hope you like it!

Right, so back to the dress. It’s living over in my mum’s house for now; it’ll probably be a while until it’s worn so it’s better not having it lying around here for Himself to try on when nobody’s home (hey, it’s unlikely but you never do know!).  I only managed to get a brief moment to grab a couple of snaps of it today and the ones I got are a tad dark and blurry. Just take my word for it that it's much more pretty in real life. Hopefully I won’t have to wait too long to get to wear it!

Czech Wonders

'Praha' by Benjamin Schmidt

“Asoka was an enlightened Indian king. Something like Rudolf II in Prague, and yet not quite like that. Because, of course, India is a land distant, and utterly strange…”

 

The words of a young Czech man named Benjamin Schmidt and, I have to say, the most wonderful introduction to a design company's website I’ve yet to come across! Mr Schmidt happens to be an old friend of mine, so I suppose this could be counted as one of those ‘shameless plug’ posts. Though when he sent me a link to his webpage a few days ago my first thought was of you guys.

The site is primarily an outlet for his design services, and if any of you are in the market for a professional page builder then by all means give him a shout. It was, however, his art gallery that caught my eye and which I thought you folks might enjoy also. You know, I always knew he was a creative soul but I was quite taken aback, and most certainly impressed, by the rather twisted feel to most of his work. Delightfully dark indeed!

Anyway, I just thought it would be selfish not to share him with you. Call over to his place for a proper nosy of his pictures and to find out more about the lovely fella. Feel free to say hello when you’re there!

 

 

Not Just A Scary Face

 Image source

 

"THEN Cuchulain went on his way, and Cathbad that had followed him went with him. And presently they came to a ford, and there they saw a young girl thin and white-skinned and having yellow hair, washing and ever washing, and wringing out clothing that was stained crimson red, and she crying and keening all the time. 'Little Hound,' said Cathbad, 'Do you see what it is that young girl is doing? It is your red clothes she is washing, and crying as she washes, because she knows you are going to your death against Maev'e's great army.'"

"Cuchulain of Muirthemne" by Lady Augustus Gregory, 1902

It’s a tale almost every Irish schoolchild will be only too familiar with- the young hound of Cullen and the king’s druid on their way to the most famous battle in Celtic lore, The Cattle Raid of Cooley. Taken from the 2000-year-old Ulster Cycle it’s also the earliest written record of an encounter with that most famous of Ireland’s fairies, the banshee.

I think I’m actually going to go as banshee now, not a vampire. No doubt I’ll change my mind a couple of dozen times again over the next 24 hours, but for the moment banshee it is! I’ll probably just stick to the obvious scary version, because it’s easier, though the aul Bean Sidhe comes in all sorts of guises. The screeching ghostly spectre that most people, myself included, usually associate with her is just one of  many faces.
<--- by Sweetheart Sinner Creations

Her most famous face, certainly. Maybe that’s because her brief appearance in that wonderfully true-to-life movie Darby O’Gill was so memorable (I know it frightened the proverbial out of my wee childhood self).  But it might also be because she’s often confused with the Morrigan, an old raven-feathered deity from Irish mythology who is also associated with death. While the Morrigan accompanies a soul passing over, however, the banshee only alerts the living to the passing of that soul.  She really can’t do you any harm at all, and she isn’t always a vision of terror either.

'Screaming Banshees' by Emily Balivet

Anyway, I’ve bored of searching for costume ideas online so instead tonight I’m going to point you in the direction of a little more Samhain reading, this time from Lady Gregory’s ‘Visions and Beliefs in the West of Ireland’ (1920). Specifically this chapter on banshees and other death warnings,  which provides a more accurate account of the whole phenomenon. Or, if my inane babbling has already bored you of all things screaming and keening, you might enjoy this chapter. It’s packed full of tiny little ghost stories :) 

You know it’s funny; this book hails from an age when it was all the rage in Ireland for intellectuals to troop across the country collecting folk and fairy tales from the lesser classes.  The majority of the practices, traditions and urban legends documented from the period have more or less died out over the subsequent generations, but there are still a lot that endure.  And reading back over them I’ve realised that the ones with the most staying power  seem to be those concerning death and dying.  Ah, but sure isn’t that the nature of the human condition. We’re obsessed with our own mortality. That must be why we love Halloween so much! Well, hope you’re all having a spooktacular start to this seasonal weekend!

New Month, New Journal

It’s been a while, I know, but I have actually been keeping up with my new journaling habit. I’ve even gone and got myself a lovely little handbag-sized book I can carry around with me. I’m still using my original July spiral pad but I keep starting and not finishing pages in it. I’ll get back to that one someday soon, but for now here’s a couple of wee pics of my new one and it’s first page. I can’t wait to fill the whole thing!

 

I got the book for 30p in a thrift shop. I really must decorate the cover next:

It’s Enid Blyton’s ‘The Mystery of the Disappearing Cat’. I never liked Blyton, so I don’t mind messing it up!

And here’s my first page, as messy as usual. Hopefully I’ll start improving soon:

p.s I just want to say thank you for all your much-too-kind comments on my previous pages. I’m always really paranoid posting them ’cause I think they look like something from playschool.  But it was blogging that got me started on this so I sort of feel an obligation to share. Anyway, thanks again!

A Little Moonlight on a Cloudy Afternoon

Image by Faerwillow

I just realised there that I’ve forgotten to do a ‘blogs I like’ post this week. I don’t have much time right now so instead I’m just going to direct you to a beautiful poetic post  I came across this afternoon at ~serendipity~  I could wax on all evening about the wonders to behold at Faerwillow’s peaceful little sanctuary of a blog, but I think this post does a better job at showing you that than I ever could. It brought a little lunar loveliness to my rainy day.

A Poem and a Painting

© Matthew Porter

Sorry all’s been quiet on this blogger front recently, I’ve been having connection difficulties yet again. Not to worry, I’m back now! Today I have for you a lovely little poem by Irish antiquary Thomas Crofton Croker. The Brothers Grimm were fans, as far as I hear it, and even translated some the Cork man’s work into German. 

TO THE

DOWAGER LADY CHATTERTON,

CASTLE MAHON.

by Thomas Crofton Croker, 1825

Thee, Lady, would I lead through Fairy-land
(Whence cold and doubting reasoners are exiled),
A land of dreams, with air-built castles piled;
The moonlight shefros there, in merry band
With arful cluricaune, should ready stand
To welcome thee - Imagination's child!
Till on thy ear would burst so sadly wild
The banshee's shriek, who points with wither'd hand
In the dim twilight should the phooka come,
Whose dusky form fades in the sunny light,
That opens clear calm lakes upon thy sight,
Where blessed spirts dwell in endless bloom.
I know thee, Lady - thou wilt not deride
Such Fairy Scenes. - Then onward with thy Guide.

By the way, the painting is by my sister’s fella Poochie. I did a post on him a while back. The thing is, he doesn’t actually know I’m using it ‘cause it’s hanging over in my sister’s room and I sneaked a quick snap of it the other day. I’m sure he won’t mind, though, if I give his Deviant Art account another wee plug. So go check him out!

It’s Songs Like This…

…that make me wish I could sing. I usually hate having tunes stuck in my head ‘cause, lets face it, the catchy ones are generally awful. Raglan Road’s the exception to the rule, though. I’ve had it swirling around in there for about a week now and I really don’t mind one little bit ‘cause it’s just so lovely. The version I’m posting here is by Sinead O’Connor, who I’ve never really been the biggest fan of but who has been growing on me somewhat in my auld age. Neither have I ever been too fond of Paddy Kavanagh, whose poem it’s based on.  Still, this is truly beautiful. I could listen to it all day long, even if it does always remind me of funerals.

Activate Your Rainbow Ray

"I believe our imagination is the key to creation and manifesting our magical realities. When I create, I am reminding us of the beauty and the journey in learning truth and love to understand life. Live, love and enjoy! Activate your rainbow ray. Remember, beauty is everywhere!"

The words of Australian artist Sioux Dollman, creator of enchanted sculpture, paintings and art installations. Having had her work displayed everywhere from Ikea stores to local zoos and primary schools, it would seem Ms Dollman is on a one woman campaign to spread a little magic wherever she goes.  Here are just a few examples of her various works of wonder. Check out her website for many, many more!

More Journal Pages

 I’m actually really busy today and shouldn’t be on here right now but as soon as I realised this was the last day in July I had to make sure I got this post up. I couldn’t let the month pass by having posted just one journal page! So here’s another couple. I finished them a while back but never got round to sharing and I’ve a few more to finish off, but they’ll have to wait till another day. (Journaling in August may not be as alliterative but I'm sure it'll be just as fun!) Again these are quite child-like and not really very good at all, but I’m sure you’ll excuse me as I’m only a beginner. The photos make them look even messier and I’m sure if I’d time I could get better shots, but I don’t so these will do. Anyway, here’s the first:

The quote in this one says: “The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” Said Yeats, who himself claimed to have met and conversed with a fairy on a West coast beach one stormy eve. I can’t remember the exact details of the tale but I know said fairy was supposedly a beautiful, life-sized woman and not a little fluttery Tinkerbell-type. How he knew she was actually a fairy I also fail to remember. I’m really going to have to look that story up again… Anyway, you know what Yeats was like. He was all into that carry on in his old age.

I think I over did it again in that last one so I tried to keep it simple here. I actually quite like this one, but it doesn’t look that good on camera. After I painted the leaves green I gave them a coat of silver paint so they shine, plus they're not stuck down to the actual page, but you can't really see that here. Oh well.

Urban Philosophy

 Image by Mark Strandquist

I came across this quote a while back and instantly fell in love with it. It just sums up my attitude to life in a sentence. Maybe it’s not the healthiest outlook to have but, hey, it works for me. The guy who took the photo had spotted it on the back of a truck and one of the comments on his Flickr page described it as ‘urban philosophy’.  Lorry and van drivers of the world, more of this please!

Anyway, I’m ashamed to say but I had no idea who this oh-so-wise Itzah C. Kret was so I had to go Google him. I’m so glad I did because reading about him brightened my day! He’s a children’s writer and illustrator who also has a penchant for guerrilla flower planting. He goes around the world sneaking in places and covering them with thousands of pretty blooms. Just last year he made the Washington Post after breaching security at the Israeli embassy to plant caladium bulbs. On his website it says “he may have an obsessive compulsive floral disorder”. Mr Kret, you are my new hero!

My first journal page…

…didn’t really turn out as well as I'd hoped. In fact, it looked so much better a day or two ago but I just had to keep on adding to it and now it’s a bit of a mess. I think himself summed it up best when he said mockingly: “It’s good for you age”. Oh well. It’s only my first go  at this kind of thing and I definitely learned a lot of lessons for the next one. Plus, it was really fun making it. I actually can’t wait to get going on another. Well anyway, here are some shots of it. 

 Sorry, they’re not great images (the shiny things were too bloody shiny for the camera). The writing on the right is an excerpt from Through The Looking Glass. Here’s the full piece because I thinks it’s just the most wonderful Wonderland quote:

At this moment, the Unicorn sauntered by them with his hands in his pockets . . . when his eye happened to fall upon Alice; he turned around instantly, and stood for some time looking at her with an air of the deepest disgust.


"What—is—this?" he said at last.
"This is a child," Haigha replied eagerly, coming in front of Alice to introduce her . . . "We only found it today. It's as large as life and twice as natural!"
"I always thought they were fabulous monsters!" said the Unicorn. "Is it alive?"


"It can talk," said Haigha solemnly.
The Unicorn looked dreamily at Alice, and said "Talk child."


Alice could not help her lips curling up into a smile as she began: "Do you know, I always thought Unicorns were fabulous monsters too? I never saw one alive before!"


"Well, now that we have seen each other," said the Unicorn, "if you'll believe in me, I'll believe in you. Is that a bargain?"


"If you like," said Alice.

Journaling in July

Picture by Shannon Blue

"Everyone is born creative; everyone is given a box of crayons in kindergarten. Then when you hit puberty they take the crayons away and replace them with books on algebra etc. Being suddenly hit years later with the creative bug is just a wee voice telling you, 'I’d like my crayons back… please.'"  -Hugh McLeod

I heard that quote from a friend of mine a few weeks ago. As someone who downed her crayons many years ago, and as someone going through somewhat of a pre-midlife crisis, I can completely see the verity of it. Since I turned 28 I’ve found myself getting all nostalgic and longing for childhood (a few of my recent posts should be testament to that).  At the same time I’ve had an urge to take up some sort of creative or crafty hobby, although until I heard that quote I hadn’t really connected the two. 

Anyway, why am I babbling on about this? Well, I’ve finally found a way to get my crayons back and it’s all thanks to D over at The Whimsical Cottage! Ms Suplicki is taking us along on an art journaling adventure this July and it’s just the kinda thing I was after. I’m not the most arty and I can’t draw to save my life but with the helpful tips and inspirations D’s has been and will be posting on her blog, the whole thing seems quite achievable. I think I’ve finally found my hobby! Anyone can join in too so hop on over there and share the fun! 

 

 

For Absolutely No Reason

Here's an aul music video that I haven’t watched in years but just found out I still love. It doesn’t do any harm that it’s the promo for one of the most beautiful songs of the twentieth century. They just don’t make them like they used to (and that includes the Pumpkins- what happened to you Billy?).

Do you understand?

I’ve wanted to post this quote for a while and finally I have the chance. I’ve put it off because I’ve only ever read one Neil Gaiman book (and it wasn't even the one this came from) so it wouldn’t have really felt right. Fortunately a friend of mine, Jimmy, now knows about this blog and he's a big Gaiman fan so I can use him as an excuse. Hello by the way! And hello also to mxtodis123 who has too many blogs to mention so I'll let you take your pick. Now, back to this quote:

"You wish to see the distant realms? Very well. But know this first, the places you will visit, the places you will see, do not exist. For there are only two worlds - your world, which is the real world, and other worlds, the fantasy. Worlds like this one, worlds of the human imagination. Their reality, or lack of reality is not important. What is important is that they are there. These worlds provide an alternative. Provide an escape. Provide a threat. Provide a dream, and power, provide refuge and pain. They give your world meaning. They do not exist; and thus they are all that matters. Do you understand?"

-Neil Gaiman, "The Books of Magic"

Image by Jacek Yerka.

'Neath the Starred and Leafy Sky

One of the most well loved poems of all time and my absolute favourite. It works to best effect when you keep in mind that it is The Traveller who is the spirit, not The Listeners.

"Is there anybody there?" said the Traveller,

Knocking on the moonlit door;

And his horse in the silence champed the grass

Of the forest's ferny floor;

And a bird flew up out of the turret,

Above the Traveller's head:

And he smote upon the door again a second time;

"Is there anybody there?" he said.

But no one descended to the Traveller;

No head from the leaf-fringed sill

Leaned over and looked into his grey eyes,

Where he stood perplexed and still.

But only a host of phantom listeners

That dwelt in the lone house then

Stood listening in the quiet of the moonlight

To that voice from the world of men:

Stood thronging the faint moonbeams on the dark stair,

That goes down to the empty hall,

Hearkening in an air stirred and shaken

By the lonely Traveller's call.

And he felt in his heart their strangeness,

Their stillness answering his cry,

While his horse moved, cropping the dark turf,

'Neath the starred and leafy sky;

For he suddenly smote on the door, even

Louder, and lifted his head:--

"Tell them I came, and no one answered,

That I kept my word," he said.

Never the least stir made the listeners,

Though every word he spake

Fell echoing through the shadowiness of the still house

From the one man left awake:

Ay, they heard his foot upon the stirrup,

And the sound of iron on stone,

And how the silence surged softly backward,

When the plunging hoofs were gone.

"The Listeners," by Walter de la Mare (1912)

Image by MaxD-Art

Hello Sarah!

Picture by Sheila A. Dane

This is my first post since I told a real life person about this blog. I never planned on telling anyone about it but I’d had a couple of drinks last weekend and thought my sister might enjoy some of it. So this one’s for you Sarah, I know you’ll like it.

A Donegal Fairy

by

LETITIA MACLINTOCK

Ay, it's a bad thing to displeasure the gentry, sure enough--they can be unfriendly if they're angered, an' they can be the very best o' gude neighbours if they're treated kindly.

My mother's sister was her lone in the house one day, wi' a big pot o' water boiling on the fire, and ane o' the wee folk fell down the chimney, and slipped wi' his leg in the hot water.

He let a terrible squeal out o' him, an' in a minute the house was full o' wee crathurs pulling him out o' the pot, an' carrying him across the floor.

"Did she scald you?" my aunt heard them saying to him.

"Na, na, it was mysel' scalded my ainsel'," quoth the wee fellow.

"A weel, a weel," says they. "If it was your ainsel scalded yoursel', we'll say nothing, but if she had scalded you, we'd ha' made her pay."

Originally published in Fairy and Folk Tales of the Irish Peasantry, edited and selected by W. B. Yeats, 1888.

For The Day That's In It

Picture by Charles Robinson

"...for Love is wiser than Philosophy, though he is wise, and mightier than Power, though he is mighty. Flame-coloured are his wings, and coloured like flame is his body. His lips are sweet as honey, and his breath is like frankincense.”

A beautiful tale from possibly the most beautiful children’s book ever written: 'The Nightingale and the Rose' from The Happy Prince and Other Tales by Oscar Wilde (1888)

All That We See or Seem

I'm still somewhat of a newbie when it comes to blinging up my blog but I'm having great fun cruising round all the great sites that offer free backgounds and buttons and stuff. Like this new typewiter I picked up. Thank you deadweight on velveteen!