Thank you all for the incredible opportunity to see, to learn, and to love once again in this magical place called Listowel.
If you’re in town, please join us tonight, 5:00 – 7:00 at Olive Stack Gallery, where Laura McKellar and I will be shamelessly flaunting our passions.
Love Always,
Pam
Yesterday was magic.
In truth, I’ve never happened upon a day in Ireland that hasn’t been magic, but the point is that Yesterday was MAGIC. And not only was it MAGIC, but it was MAGIC over and over again.
“What would you like to see?”, asked Olive. “Stripey Rocks and Cows, Please!”, I said all atwitter. There was a slight pause and a bit of a smile and then, “Well okay!”.
It started with the rocks — a mystical evening just beginning to turn, but bright enough to see a glow everywhere (because … IRELAND!”) And suddenly they were everywhere.
Plus a boot.
And then of course, the rest of the story ….
(Press to Play)
Inspired by a month-long artist residency graciously provided by Olive Stack Gallery, Listowel, Ireland, Day 27
As the theme for our artist residency this month, Laura McKellar and I chose the word Becoming.
And aren’t we all?
And isn’t that a wondrous, endless gift?
Even when we’re smack in the middle of those upper years and think we know exactly who we are, the fact is that we change not only yearly, not only daily, but every single moment. We constantly evolve.
Life isn’t stagnant for any of us, nor is it set out neatly, nor is its progression a given. And aren’t you glad? Well no, many times I’m not glad at all for the changes that arrive unbidden, but I do know that all change brings growth — and sometimes we need that push.
When I registered for this residency, I knew it would be a step out for me and it certainly has been — in all the best of ways.
There’s a poem I discovered during my early feminist stages that has always stuck in my head. The opening line by Jayne Brown, which is repeated multiple times, reads: I’m becoming the woman I’ve wanted. It’s a process and not always easy, but I’m so very grateful to the many women and men who have stood beside me along the path.
One of the best of those is Olive Stack (whom we often call Wonder Woman, and rightfully so).
And so as we ready our selves and our words and our comfort zones and our joy, I’m incredibly thankful once again for this opportunity to share and grow and become the woman I want to be — the woman who opens her soul and scatters bits of it across the skies, the waters, the friendships, the todays and the tomorrows, all of which are so much richer now — due not only to this residency, but to the many, many friends and teachers I’ve gathered along the way.
Thank you, Olive Stack Residency, for the thousand-fold ways in which you’ve invited and allowed me to grow.
And to those nearby (or those who whimsically decide to fly on over), we’d love to have you join us for our exhibition:
Becoming, Friday, April 28, 5:00 – 7:00 PM at Olive Stack Gallery, Listowel, Ireland.
See you there!
Pam
She takes me by the hand and
points toward
life,
then whispers
— you can do it —
all it takes is one great gasp,
and truth is lightning
in your hands
and heart
forever
more.
Today was one of those splendid days that pops up when it really shouldn’t. It’s still chilly here, though there are a few in shorts and tee shirt, and yours truly in a surprising redistribution of the ubiquitous puffy coat. Yes it’s 55 degrees in Ireland today, and though that wouldn’t really be “cold” at home, in Ireland it comes complete with the cool (read frigid) air that follows us everywhere.
We took the long walk by the River Feale, the banks filled with flowers and the ever present fanciful gurgle of water, and then headed to the Garden of Europe. The gardens are beautiful and becoming more so, and I particularly love the surrounding forest of trees and flowers.
Left to Right and Top to Bottom: Trees and flowers along the River Feale; Tufted plants; Laura taking a path to the water; Yellows and purples; “Wrap your arms around me”; Gorgeous setting in the Garden of Europe; Fabulous pebble mosaic created by Kathleen Doody of Canada, a former Olive Stack Residency recipient; Path through the Fairy Woods; Holocaust Memorial.
Inspired by a month-long artist residency graciously provided by Olive Stack Gallery, Listowel, Ireland, Day 23
It’s been a busy, busy week! Our show opens in six days, and we’re fine-tuning, re-tuning, extra-tuning, and then the ubiquitous “starting over.” Today I’m hoping to get a few things “glued down”, and I mean that not only figuratively, but quite literally.
It started with an order of lovely fabriano paper, which of course made the rounds of a few countries before getting to Listowel, even though it was listed as “in stock” just a few counties up the road, so supposedly already in Ireland. But it finally arrived and it’s gorgeous. When you’re displaying poetry, it’s nice to have great paper, right?
And then came play time — which poems to choose, shall I add backgrounds, is my handwriting good enough? I took a valiant stab at a saucy alternative, but couldn’t find any locally or even semi-locally (this is why they say “plan ahead — WAY ahead”), so I moved to Plan 54 and finally made it work.
Then of course there’s the sizing. I want it big. I want it big, thick, deckle-edged and able to hold thousands of thoughts and considerations and magical ideas and sleepless nights and heartbreaks and memories and centuries past and future.
Now I just need … … … … maybe a tiny little nap.
Inspired by a month-long artist residency graciously provided by Olive Stack Gallery, Listowel, Ireland, Day 22
I’m just back from two and a half days in and around beautiful Dingle, Ireland and surroundings, and I regret to say that there’s no way I can show you everything. I’ll start out with several of our first stops and will try to keep up with my favorites a few at a time.
I never quite realized that there’s only one way to get to Dingle unless you happen to be driving a large truck or bus. All these years I suspected that my co-travelers were having fun torturing me, but apparently not. So yes, we did the Connor Pass, which is either miraculously gorgeous or head-spinningly dangerous, depending on your tolerance for screaming. The road is long and indeed winding, and the fog! Thick as thieves!
One of the highest mountain passes in Ireland, the path is winding and narrow, and the height is 410 meters (or 1345.13 feet) about sea level. With sheer drops and some roads too narrow for two cars to pass (they’re forced to back up and let one move forward at a time), a lot of people consider it great fun. Whether you love it or hate it, it’s absolutely a standout experience.
Closer to ground level, the sea is everywhere, and much closer to my comfort zone.
Below, you’ll see some of my favorites from Day 1.
Enjoy!
Left to Right and Top to Bottom:
1-3 are images from the Connor Pass.
The last six photos are from a beautiful and very secluded beach. Isn’t nature incredible?????
Inspired by a month-long artist residency graciously provided by Olive Stack Gallery, Listowel, Ireland, Day 18
Dear Self: I started this blog in 2007.
Sixteen years ago.
Is that long? Not so long, considering that I’ve taken plenty of breaks. I don’t remember why, but I doubt it was for a lack of words. More likely it was simply business — family, jobs, travel, the basic what-we-do that seems to determine every morsel of our daily dailies.
But even from the start, there was such a beauty to the practice of writing. I wrote much, much more than I blogged, keeping most of it private until I found my comfort zone, which primarily means that I simply stopped worrying about what other people thought.
Boring? Often, no doubt. Redundant? Oh yeah. We all have our passions, and they’re not a one-and-done deal. Self-centered? Sure, but … as writers, we pull from within ourselves. That’s not a bad thing — we all need to pay more attention to what we have to offer instead of just sitting on it for no good reason.
My major focus has always been watching, listening, and working to understand life — the joys, generosity, foibles, kindness, hatred, simplicity, and so much more. I’m drawn again and again to grasp the tiny moments — the ones we often don’t notice or think we’re too busy to for.
And that’s not true. So not true.
The image at the top of my blog is me — my mind, my joy — grabbing moments and jotting them down as quickly and legibly as I can, particularly on walks — a phone in one hand and a scrappy piece of paper full of scribbles in the other. Like everyone else on the planet, I usually think I’m “too busy” with this or that, which sometimes includes staring into space and letting my mind follow its will without judgment.
What I’ve learned:
Listen more than you talk.
Be free with support for others.
Share when asked.
Write without worrying if it’s good or bad. The more you write, the better it gets.
Say Yes when it’s a healthy response.
And most importantly, Let That Shit Go.
Really.
Inspired by a month-long artist residency graciously provided by Olive Stack Gallery, Listowel, Ireland, Day 14
Life is a funny thing. You can spend the bulk of your days with good friends for 10 years, and then directions and responsibilities change and Oh How You Miss Them! There are memories, of course — laughter, working together on heady projects, communal exhaustion, (and more laughter).
And then there’s this:
You travel 3,587 miles (unless you’re directed, oddly, through London, and then it’s a bit more), and end up spending 33 days in heaven — first with one of your best girls and then with two more.
Who says magic is an illusion?
Unplanned joy is one of the greatest gifts in our lives, and somehow … somehow, the wheels turn quite on their own and and we find our true directions without even looking.
Bliss is everywhere, but you have to be watching for it, and then you have to say Yes.
Always say Yes.
Inspired by a month-long artist residency graciously provided by Olive Stack Gallery, Listowel, Ireland
There are moments in the heart
that sing so readily
i have to dance,
and whether feet or arms or spirit
is no matter,
knowing only that
the dance
is all —
and ever in my soul.
© Pam Goode
Inspired by a month-long artist residency graciously provided by Olive Stack Gallery, Listowel, Ireland
Pam Goode Writes 