choices

If you only had one… What would you do… With that day?

| Mairead

0910d(Cute (Little gazebo in the walled garden in Marley Park)

I have lots of old magazines. I brought three with me to France to use in my collages and montages. I didn’t really think three would be enough, which reminds me of the glue and how enough that was… Anyway, it turned out three was more than enough and I’ve decided not to break into my big magazine stash until I really, really need to. Maybe keep them for my course (details here!)

0910b

(… and nice door…)

So yesterday I was paging through one of the three – an Image magazine from 2010 – and I was selecting colours and pictures and I stopped at a page with a photograph of the fashion designer Paul Costelloe. He was smiling, surrounded by lovely models. The headline of the page said “if I only had one day…” and the text was full of the things Paul Costelloe would do on his perfect day. You’re probably way ahead of me in terms of what he wanted… It was simple things, like cycling in his scruffy jeans and eating fluffy potatoes!

0910a

(… and strange carving….)

Something made me stop on this page. When that happens usually I start thinking about it but my time spent in France putting my attention on big picture thinking (creativity) has had an effect. So, I got out my tools and started to play with the page. I tore it out and roughed it up a bit with paint, ink and sandpaper. Only then did I notice his hands… In the picture he’s clapping, as they do at the end of the runway when all the models have modelled a new collection and everyone is clapping the designer and the designer is clapping too. So his hands were up and I could see the palm of one hand. There was a long jagged cut running down his thumb to his palm which was covered in plasters. He must have hurt his hand.

Medlars

(…and a Medlar tree  – thanks to the Happy Pear for the name)

It turns out I had some preconceived notions about this man and they fell away as I looked at his hand…The story I was believing was about a famous man with loads of money, who could do anything he wanted and he had it easier than me… And now? Now I was making up a new story about him… about a man who worked hard, his job caused him some pain, in fact it might not be easy, it’s possible he found it hard to drop everything and do some things I take for granted. Sure, he still had money but now I was wondering what my perfect day might hold, because simple things like scruffy jeans and fluffy potatoes are well within my price range.

So… what would you do with your perfect day? Mairead.

Being Grateful

| Mairead

2409b

(St. John’s Gate – Parthenay)

I’m sitting on the swing as I write, in a little bit of shade, it’s way too hot out there under the bright light for my pale complexion. The really surprising thing about a hot day here is how cool it is inside in the cottage. It’s almost like there’s air conditioning in there. I think it must be the thickness of the walls. Caves are like that too, so it makes them a constant temperature year round, cooler than the summer heat and warmer than the cold winter.

2409c

(Half-timber house – Parthenay)

I realised a moment ago that we will be starting our journey home in just over a week. It was starting to feel like we could stay here forever! So it makes me think about some of the things I am grateful for here… The warmth – it’s been very hot this week and I love how sparkly everything is in the sun, including the spider’s webs (some photos of those would be nice). The garden – it’s lovely to be among green growing things. The peace – it’s so quiet, not silent, there’s buzzing and I can hear some neighbours chatting. I think I hear a farm machine in the distance and every now and then a bird singing. The trestle table – it has been (and will continue to be for the next week, I hope) fantastic to be able to work outside at this big wooden table made by human hands and planks of wood.

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(Very cute house – Parthenay)

The distance from a retail hub – well, this was a big surprise to me, that I could be grateful not to be near a village, town or city. How would I spend my days? How would I fill the time? Where would I get some chocolate or croissants? Where would we eat? For as long as I can remember I have lived in a town (or a city) and always very close to (either next door to or a few hundred yards/meters away from) a shop. In Cashel where I grew up as a child besides the shops there were so many amazing places to visit (really, they did seem amazing!) There was the Rock of Cashel where stone staircases led to turrets that let up to the battlements, hundreds of feet up in the air and unprotected… Any parent’s nightmare – fortunately our parents never knew we were up there! And Hoare Abbey, an old ruined monastery, protected by huge cows (I was/am afraid of cows, so I only ventured in when they were eating the grass round the back). The town of Parthenay reminded me a lot of Cashel.

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(Steep, unprotected steps, at the castle – Parthenay)

So I have come to understand that having no shops and castles and monasteries next door to wander around has actually been an advantage to me. Instead, I can wander around glue and paint, paper and canvas, scissors and fabric.

2409e

(See the seashell? Symbol of Camino – Parthenay)

I am also grateful that the only cows around here are firmly behind fences, Mairead.

Just Walk

| Mairead

You might remember my budding exercise regime? I was going to walk everyday. I was even thinking of walking on the wet days.Well, it’s been faltering a bit. Now, I had read somewhere that if you can repeat something for 21 consecutive days it will become a habit. That’s what I wanted to do with the walking. It was having a shaky start. Then yesterday it got a bit of a boost. I was reading twitter (it’s shorter than email or Facebook…) last night and someone had retweeted a comment from a lady who wished “that I could wake up in the morning on the Camino and just walk.”

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(Some more free food)

It was a simple enough sentence but something about it was captivating. This woman had been walking on the Camino (the Pilgrim’s Walk in Spain) earlier this year and her love for it came through in her very few words. It was a practical example to me of how one person’s passion transfers to another. It did to me.

1909d

(No hunting here, seen on edge of forest I passed)

I read twitter to get recipes from The Happy Pear, to look at cartoon drawings, to hear the news (in very small chunks), to be inspired by Brene Brown or to be amused by Ellen. But last night I went to sleep dreaming of what it must feel like to want to walk, even walk all day long. It wasn’t something I had really felt before… the wanting bit.

1909e

(Big sunflower face, lots of sunflowers on my walk)

So when I woke up this morning I was raring to go. I put on my new walking shoes and set out the door. Backtrack, first I had my breakfast and then I put on my shoes and went out the door. Although my mind was very excited and ready for a long walk, my body was less than enthusiastic. So I promised it (am I the only one who talks to her body?) that we would just take one step at a time and if things got tough we could always turn back. And then I began to think about the lady and her wish to “just walk” and it was different. Just walk is much easier than exercise regime. Just walk is simple and reminds me of something old-fashioned, an older time, maybe a time when the shops closed on Sundays and a half day on Wednesdays. And walking was entertaining, fun, social.

1909b

(One little flower popped out after the rain)

It was so easy I took another Just walk after lunch, Mairead.

I have a very little fridge and I’m not going to fill it up with rain

| Mairead

1809c

(Some perfect scraps of paper)

It seems to have rained all night so the ground was very wet this morning…. but it’s sunny now so I’m sitting outside on the swing. Since we got here I’ve been making craft stuff everyday (except at the weekend) and the weather has been nice enough to work outside. Until this week. It was hard to come back inside when I’d got used to working in the air. Even when the sun wasn’t shining it felt good to be outside. Now there were downsides. For example every piece of paper had to be weighted down so that it didn’t blow away. It’s painful fishing for those perfect scraps of paper in the rose bushes. But working inside the glue smells and the spots of paint I’ve been dropping may never come out of the rug… 

1809a

(Bits and pieces)

So, instead of reminding myself it will be a lot colder and wetter when we get back home and how’s that going to suck… I starting thinking….. all this talking and thinking about cold weather or wet weather or bad weather gets me no closer to the thing I want to be doing. It’s just a distraction. 

1809b

(Mara came back today and she made up a vegetable basket – all from the garden. And later there’s promise of chocolate zucchini cake – no idea…)

Like when I go into the supermarket here. I bring a list, it’s a very small list because we have a very small fridge (note to self: bigger fridge is not always better fridge, you tend to fill the fridge and the only advantage is that there’s more room for things to go off…) But on the way to getting the things on the list I see lots of attractive other things. Like cute knives and forks, you can never have enough knives and forks and they have a gingham pattern. Or cake… well who doesn’t want more cake? Or those funny orange sticks in the fish section – what are they? Anyway, by the time I find the things on the list the basket is full and I’m ready for a nap. 

1809f

(Who could pass these?)

How is that like this? Maybe not a lot but it reminds me… when I’m in the supermarket I forget why I’m there – to fill the little list. When the rain falls I forget why I’m here (in France, but maybe also in general) – to fill my other little list. My other little list has joy and love and fun and crafts and glue and paint and scissors and fabric and pins and thread and wool and other people’s hens and…..

If I fill my other little fridge with rain and cold and problems and worry it’ll be hard to get anything else in, Mairead.

And so the work begins….

| Mairead

1009a

(The tunnel of tress)

Last evening we went for a walk. There’s a farm lane at then end of our road and we followed it the first evening we arrived but there were signs and as we couldn’t read them (!) we turned back, rather than suffer the consequences of trespass! But our host tells us the signs only refer to hunters, so we’re welcome. We went off again last evening and found a lovely tunnel of trees. The tunnel led past a house where a man was carving a huge tree trunk into a deer with a bench. We waved our Bonjour and carried on to a lake. The lake was surrounded by other carvings by the same man. The path continued onto a paved road and eventual onto the main road where we were able to complete a circuit home. Considering how few houses we passed there are lots of paths.

1009d

(One wood carving was in the middle of the lake, might be  a seal?)

It’s the same with the roads we’ve been driving on. There are multiple roads leading to the local town and our sat nav seems to bring us on a different one or variations of different ones each time. It does mean you can get lost very easily but it also means you are never without an option. I like options but sometimes they’re not useful to me. They make it difficult for me to start or when started they distract me from continuing. This morning I started.

1009f

(That our nearest town in the distance)

One of the things I’ll be doing while I’m here in France is preparing for a course I intend to run back in Greystones. It doesn’t have a name yet (too many options…) but it’s about setting aside time for creativity. Lots of people think they’re not creative and the other people who know they’re creative often think their creations are not good enough. So, while the idea of spending time creating might be appealing, the mass of judgement heaped on any creative output can be painful and paralysing…. or at least that’s how it can be for me.

1009e

(Cattle over the hedge)

Usually, I take the time to get everything out of the cupboard and set up the perfect space and enthusiastically begin. But very quickly I can see that the beautiful idea in my head is not what’s appearing on paper. So I stop, I shove everything back in the cupboard and I firmly resolve to forget the whole creating thing! Funnily, I’m always drawn back.

1009g

(Not a great picture, the real thing is so amazing – stars in the middle of the country)

But there is another way. I am practicing that other way here. I started this morning, in the garden. Our host, Mara (from Australia…. where they speak English…) when she realised what I was up to, pointed me in the direction of her shed where a trestle table awaited. So, Denis and I took the table out and I set about doing creative time in a different way.

0909c

(The tools)

I have formulated a little routine. First I lay everything out around me – the paint, paper, brushes, books, magazines and whatever else I think I’ll need. Then I find a nice sitting place and sit there. I ask myself some questions about what I want to reveal to myself today and then I start being kind to myself. Only then do I begin the creative stuff. Very soon, no matter how I was feeling when I started I begin to feel relaxed, calm and settled. Eventually I hear myself let out a long sigh and I remember why I love making time to create.

This is the work I’ll be doing here, Mairead.

Pensive on a rainy Monday

| Mairead

0909x

(Photo I took of Glendalough round tower last weekend)

The weekend before we left Ireland I was down in Glendalough at a family gathering. Sixty-five cousins (four generations) from my Dad’s side of the family came together on a Saturday morning to walk in the hills and share a meal. My Dad had three brothers and the organising committee was made up of one member from each of the four brother’s families. I was my family’s representative. It was a very easy committee to be on, everything seemed to slot into place.

09091

(It’s raining today…)

I think that’s due to my cousin Charlie. He was the one who had the idea for a gathering and so we made him the president (chairman was too ordinary.) He was exceedingly good at his job and exceedingly good at delegating. He’d say “Now, I want you to do that, but only if it’s okay with you, now tell me if it’s a problem, but you’d be great, you’re exactly the right person for it.” Apart from not being able to get a word in edgeways, who could refuse him? None of us did. It wasn’t until the Sunday morning at breakfast that I found out his wife, and not he, had been answering all the numerous emails from the other members of the committee over the past few months.

0909b

(…so I’m looking out at the pretty raindrops… )

Charlie got an idea into his head all those months ago and he did what was necessary to make it happen. He didn’t do everything. He did what he was good at and he asked for help with the rest. It worked. We sat around tables in the hotel in Glendalough and reminisced about our childhoods, about parents and grandparents who were not there, about cousins who could not attend. We had a great time. We said “This was a great idea.” I’m glad Charlie had an idea in his head and I’m really glad he shared his idea with the rest of us. I think it takes courage to share your ideas.

0909d

(…and working away inside)

The sun has come out now so I’m off to sit in the garden, Mairead.

How often do Ryanair fly out of Pisa? Anyone?

| Mairead

We’re leaving Florence today, well, tomorrow as I write and we’re leaving very early (read 9am…) so I anticipate having too little time then (now, to you) to write so I’m writing now…. which is in the past… which means I may have developed a time machine… it is now as you read and as I write?… Oh better yet, I’ve found a way to explain The Power of Now…. maybe later.

02 07a

(Window in Venice)

Although the Florence bit is nearly over there’s still the journey home…. Four days of wonderful riding through Italy, Austria, Germany, Holland, England and Wales… Emmm… Thing is, the trip down kinda put me off the trip home and I’m busy looking at a train to Pisa and a Ryanair to Dublin. But don’t tell Denis. He’ll be motoring along without a care until the first stop before he realises I’m not on the back. He’ll open his mail and this blog will be there, maybe I should write something nice for him, so he’ll understand…

02 07d

(Windows in Siena)

Never mind, I’m not really going to Pisa, I’m going overland and I’m going to make the journey as easy for myself as possible! First, I’m going to start by following my own advice… well, I was only sharing it because I wasn’t using it myself. So, I’ll notice what’s happening now on the journey.  Instead of imagining and getting fearful about what might happen or about how it might be as hot/tiring/sore as the last time I’ll notice how exactly it is right now. Also, I’ll appreciate stuff that happens and I’ll share with you what I’m grateful for each day…

02 07f

(Window in Duomo, Florence)

You might notice that “easy” for me doesn’t really include any physical issues…. (well, we will be stopping very regularly, in fact by the time we get home we’ll have stopped at approximately 25 motorway services/roadside cafes  over the four days, so that’s a given!) No, all my issues are mental – interesting, right? Mmm…

02 07h

(Window in Pitti Palace, Florence)

We’ll be in Austria next time I write to you, and I’ll let you know how I am then, but of course it’ll be now… again, Mairead.

Very quiet day here….

| Mairead

Didn’t do a lot yesterday, took the day off and read…. But I’ve included some previous day photos. In fact we have so many photos we could pretend we were still here for another month! Or maybe we are….

01 07b

(Another view of the Duomo.)

I was reading an article from the online version of the British Telegraph newspaper, it was written by a guy called Mic Wright, who lives in Dublin. The article was about how hard it is to be a writer nowadays. “The currency of the written word has been devalued”, there’s so much writing and it’s free. So why would anyone want to pay you to do it?

01 07d

(There are lots and lots of scooters)

I don’t know him but it sounds like he’s having a bad day. But if he stops writing I’d be sad because in that short article there was some beautiful words. For example, words  “spill forth from the internet like water from a broken valve”, yummy! He talks about telling his teenage self to give up the dream of being a writer, now I’m sad again.

01 07e

(Artist at work outside the Uffizi…. she reminded me of Nolene, and it could be Nolene! Hello New Zealand!)

But the saddest bit? The comments. They were some very cranky people commenting but that’s not the sad bit. The sad bit was one of the commenters was a parent with a seventeen year old son. The son wanted to be a writer. The parent needed the son to know that writing didn’t bring in money so it was not worth the son’s passion. He was going to send the article to his son, because he was “not prepared to support him until his 40’s.” I wanted to tell the parent that encouraging his son to follow his passion does not automatically lead to having to support him financially until he’s 40. And I want to tell him, please, encourage your son to follow his passion….. But I am not brave enough to comment on the site with the cranky commenters…

01 07a

(Giubbe Rosse bar/cafe in Piazza della Repubblica Florence, favourite haunt of writers over the years)

I think most people will agree with the parent and that makes me even sadder. So, I’ll stop now.

“The path will call to you, and you’ll find yourself on it. The way to begin is to stand…. waiting, waiting… breathlessly waiting.” Carlos Castaneda.

I’m off to ponder on the beauty of Florence, Mairead.