I give them the moon and a white ribbon.......

This is a guest post I wrote for Vision and verb shortly after the very sad murder of Jill Meagher in Melbourne. This month Tom Meagher, Jill's widower has become an advocate for the Irish White Ribbon Campaign. Tom has been writing about his experiences here on the White Ribbon Blog, it is both a chilling story and a powerful piece of writing. To support their work I am reposting this today and if you want to support them you can donate here




It's October and the evenings are drawing in. Like thousands of other Irish parents my sons are surfing under Australian blue skies, drinking coffee in the street cafes of Berlin or taking classes in a New York film school. Spreading their wings while I follow their adventures from my perch on the hill.

Tonight the random rape and murder of Jill Meagher in Melbourne, 12,000 miles from home weighs heavily on me. The fragility of life and the grief of others has stopped me in my tracks. My sorrow now is for her husband Tom, her father and mother, for the friends out there. How could this man, the perpetrator, be so isolated and cut-off from any sense of reality or care, to inflict such pain?

Most days in the grassy wetlands I head out alone with my camera to meet up with one of my best teachers and collaborators, Mother Nature. It's late now but still I pound up the hill towards the forest, muttering to myself about the world, about the fear. I don't pray but I carry all the young emigrants in my heart as I walk the land. I carry their questions and their anger.....

To the west the sun is setting and to the east the moon is rising. I am reminded of other nights when I travelled the world myself. When I slept under the stars in the Black Forest in Germany and a moon just like this one hung over it like a Max Ernst painting. When I wept with frustration at having no where to sleep in Paris until a kind Jesuit found me a room. When I travelled by subway in NY chewing gum as a strategy to look tough, the most innocent looking pale faced girl on that train. 

And here, with one foot in a rural haven and one foot in the global chaotic melting pot, with questions, confusion and anger whirring.......this moon soothes and distracts. Before long I am reaching for the camera,  besotted by the sky, engrossed in the tranquility.

As I walk home thinking about them all wherever they are tonight. I imagine them under this clear sky with the chubby clouds. And then I close my eyes and with all my heart I give them the moon............

What is, is....

I could see from the window that the Purple Loosestrife was blooming profusely in the bog field. Every day as I ran out the door to complete my week's work I held the image in my heart and waited for the opportunity. (Am not too bad at delayed gratification after all these years of practice) At last this morning I headed out after breakfast with the camera.

It was about 9AM and already too hot to bear. I stood for a long time under a Sycamore tree watching and waiting. The scent of the creamy Meadowsweet was intoxicating. The shade welcome and eventually I sat on my rucksack and succumbed to the silence.

Every most fabulous insect, danced in my face, but evaded my lens!

My photos were supposed to be of Butterflies, Dragonflies, Damselflies, but they just flitted and floated by. Every precious moment of their beauty and presence even more fleeting and impossible to capture than usual. 

Instead I got tangled up in a evil briar. (Loud cursing!!) Why do the beautiful moments slip by impossible to hold onto while the clawing, gnawing of thorns is impossible to escape? Beauty is brief and frail, pain deep and unending......and so on, muttering to myself while the briar clung to me like a desperate man.....

Later on the beach while the country sweated in an uncanny 30 degrees, the superficial lacerations on my legs soaked in the salty sea water and I suffered a little less. When I came home and looked at the pictures I saw again a gentle reminder of the beauty of photography, capturing moments in time now gone. What is, is. 

And so I label these pictures,"Purple Loosestrife on fire in the bog in the July heatwave of 2013". It may be an invasive species in some countries but here kept in check by Irish beetles, it is stunning without doubt, purple which is always good in my book, and like the elusive butterfly, soon to be gone except here between ourselves, on our mutual internet cloud of colour.....

Also posted on Vision and Verb today

Also take a peek at my new project here www.onehalfshuteye.blogspot.com

Light

The sun shone on Christmas Day and beamed long rays of golden light into the house. The slow unfolding of the meal, the unwrapping of gifts, the popping of corks seemed more relaxed and cheery this year. At it's heart these 12 days are a hibernation away from the world, some solace in the darkest part of winter.

The voices that surrounded me were clear and true. Almost upbeat. A sense of turning the corner.

During the dark hours of the last week I stole time and tried to reflect on the transition to the New Year, 2013. Last year I dipped my toe into so many new things. My word for 2012 was EXPAND. Normally fairly cautious, somehow through selecting this word, I gave myself permission to dabble and dream a bit more than usual....

My word for 2013 is LIGHT and I notice already a clearer focus on what is important and what is not in my struggle to survive economically and spiritually. For that will be the challenge for most Irish people as we try to stay afloat while at the same follow our own individual stars...

When I am living with close family and friends it becomes impossible to write or take photographs. I am torn between the practice and the laughs! So although I will miss their presence and colour, I am also looking forward to that little bit of magic, just me, the camera and the light.

Returning to the sound of my own beating heart. The mystery of being here at all. The beauty of the ordinary.

Did you chose a word, set an intention, make a resolution, would love to hear about it, and if you have blogged about it please share a link?



Also posted here on Vision and Verb a global collaboration of creative women

Ages older and deeper

Every day it's the first thing I see from any window in the house. If I am having breakfast it catches my eye, twinkling in the morning light. Later I could be on the phone chatting and I am drawn suddenly to notice the lake darkening and soaking up every shard of light into it's depths. At night when I close the curtains on the day, it's moonlit shadows and reflections form an eery backdrop.

The lake has moods. It shudders and ripples or starts to solidify into a sheet of glass. The events that surround it can be both heavenly and bizarre. Baptisms, horses swimming with boys on their backs, herons swooping over and back, parties, picnics, scout camping trips, lovers trysts, forest fires.

On Autumn evenings like this one, the earth tilts and the setting sun magic descends. The lake and I commune with the sky. She is solid and still. All dressed up with absolutely no where to go. Dignified, ages older and deeper. Her dazzling beauty and golden highlights are on full display.

I am giddy and happy. Up on the roof, elbows resting on the edge, playing at being the flaxen haired lady of the lake. Sometimes I imagine my future old lady self, she is pushing the boat out, trailing her fingers in the icy water and soaking it all in for as long as she can.......

And by the way...........there's room on the boat for a few more giddy old lady pals.....




Also posted today on Vision and Verb where I will now be contributing on a regular basis. Check it out, there's a new post from a diverse group of women bloggers every day.

I give them the moon

This is a guest post I wrote for Vision and verb shortly after the very sad murder of Jill Meagher in Melbourne. By coincidence Tom Meagher, Jill's widower has this month become an advocate for the Irish White Ribbon Campaign. Tom has been writing about his experiences here on the White Ribbon Blog, it is both a chilling story and a powerful piece of writing. To support their work I am reposting this today. 




It's October and the evenings are drawing in. Like thousands of other Irish parents my sons are surfing under Australian blue skies, drinking coffee in the street cafes of Berlin or taking classes in a New York film school. Spreading their wings while I follow their adventures from my perch on the hill.

Tonight the random rape and murder of Jill Meagher in Melbourne, 12,000 miles from home weighs heavily on me. The fragility of life and the grief of others has stopped me in my tracks. My sorrow now is for her husband Tom, her father and mother, for the friends out there. How could any man be so isolated and cut-off from any sense of reality or care, to inflict such pain?

Most days in the grassy wetlands I head out alone with my camera to meet up with one of my best teachers and collaborators, Mother Nature. It's late now but still I pound up the hill towards the forest, muttering to myself about the world, about the fear. I don't pray but I carry all the young emigrants in my heart as I walk the land. I carry their questions and their anger.....

To the west the sun is setting and to the east the moon is rising. I am reminded of other nights when I travelled the world myself. When I slept under the stars in the Black Forest in Germany and a moon just like this one hung over it like a Max Ernst painting. When I wept with frustration at having no where to sleep in Paris until a kind Jesuit found me a room. When I travelled by subway in NY chewing gum as a strategy to look tough, the most innocent looking pale faced girl on that train. 

Vulnerable.

And here, with one foot in a rural haven and one foot in the global chaotic melting pot, with questions, confusion and anger whirring.......this moon soothes and distracts. Before long I am reaching for the camera,  besotted by the sky, engrossed in the tranquility.

As I walk home thinking about them all wherever they are tonight. I imagine them under this clear sky with the chubby clouds. And then I close my eyes and with all my heart I give them the moon............