Nature

Ireland, Here We Come!

/ Pam Goode / 8 Comments

I fly to Ireland on Monday.

Wait … Let me readjust that note … I FLY TO IRELAND ON MONDAY!!!

It’s not my first trip there, and in fact I’m on my TENTH visit now … because I just can’t get enough. And guess what? I’m 100% as excited as I was on the first trip.

As you can tell, Ireland will always have my heart.

And — oh yeah — we’re staying in a castle. A real-life, bells and whistles Castle. Seriously. And meals are included.

And it’s not just a Castle — aside from the monumental reality there — but a castle and quite a few other perks, and yes, I’m all atwitter and with good reason. Add in 200 acres of woodlands, and ohhh how that makes me swoon. Oh, and they feed us — and not just “food”, but a range of locally sourced delicacies like Spanish tapas, traditional Irish meals, Italian fire-cooked pizza, and vegetarian options. I won’t go hungry.

So back to those perks — We’ll have a class on Falconry (which would NEVER have occurred to me on my own), a Micro Mosaic Workshop with the fabulous and renowned Irish artist Olive Stack, a Group Collaboration on a Land-Art piece, traditional Irish music and story-telling, PLUS off-site excursions focusing on day-trips with Irish historian Ger Greaney to explore ancient Celtic sites, a stone circle, holy well, faery ring, and historic ruins; a full day in Listowel for exploring, shopping and exploring; and a day in beautiful Dingle to see artisan studios, galleries, ancient buildings, the Blasket Center, which preserves and honors the memories of the unique community that lived on the very remote Blasket Islands until their evacuation in 1953, and (of course) a bit of shopping.

FYI, we have TWO Spaces Available for Ireland (women only). We have a room with two twin beds that can be made into a King with a bathroom en suite, and two queen rooms with a hall bathroom. Our flights leave Monday, May 9 and return Sunday, May 16. Flights are not included. Let us know if you’d like details, and SEE YOU SOON!!!

It Was A Dark and Stormy Night

/ Pam Goode / 21 Comments

Last night, and in fact smack in the middle of what’s often called Premium Sleep Time, a tree fell on our house.

First of all, yes, we’re okay. Secondly, while my husband leapt out of bed and examined every iota of the house inside and out until he knew we were safe for the night — I slept through it. While the occasional deep sleep is understandable if you’re, say, missing breakfast, but it’s more than disconcerting if your house has been ravaged by tree limbs during your slumber. It’s just not something we tend to prepare for, and the concept of sleeping through a major episode makes all my wires short out.

And yes, it was indeed a dark and stormy night. Lots of wind and lots of rain, but not so different from most nights … until the crash. And it’s probably no surprise that 1) it rattled me big time, and two, I can’t shake it.

Once we’d enlisted chainsaw and climbing help via my husband’s (seriously) knowledge of everything on the planet, I slipped away to the studio to work on a project. I calmed down a (tiny) bit after 20 minutes or so, and then there was a knock on the door of my studio/sanctuary.

“I just wanted to let you know that there’s a large gas leak and they’ve asked everyone to leave the building.” Okay, I’m sure there’s a silver lining in there somewhere, but it wasn’t meant for today.

All in all, the tree was about 60 feet tall, and we were lucky (really, really lucky) that it snapped instead of falling full force in all its glory across several backyards. We think it was one of those “surprise” miniature tornadoes. I hope it’s my last.

Life and How We Live It

/ Pam Goode / 6 Comments


I may have mentioned a few or fifty-seven times that I’ve spent almost 100% of my time for the past five or six or seven weeks cleaning. And I don’t mean sweeping and dusting obsessively — that will never be my goal.

What I mean is that I’ve been digging deeper and deeper into the “I can pick them up and carry them around” bits of my life — memories from across the decades, moments of loss and moments of euphoria, talismans that helped me through various decades depending on my spiritual quest at the time, aches that I’ll carry forever because they were a critical part of my growth, and aches as well that scarred me deeply and took up residence in my soul for far too long.

And yet all in all, it’s been, and continues to be, one of the most healing times of my life, taking me from emotion to emotion as I try to place each into the part of me that will keep me moving forward with wonder and sharing and joy day by day.

Love to All!

A Day in Provence

/ Pam Goode / 14 Comments

It’s a bit dreary today (not to mention several other days across the last few weeks), so how about a handful of Sunny Provence?!

I took these photos during a glorious week in Menerbes. Now, I’m one of those girls who LOVES traveling countrysides, frankly they just flat out amaze me. Have a look, and let me know what you think!

And no, I did not visit with Peter Mayle, but I did pass his delightfully charming house!

P.S. During our walk along the gorgeously ancient cobblestones, we passed an enticing church that was closed. Not to be deterred, I snapped a bit of the interior through the keyhole.

Busy Bee

/ Pam Goode / 4 Comments


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

A Walk Along Bromore Cliffs, Part 1

/ Pam Goode / 6 Comments

Yesterday we had a long, blissful walk along the Bromore Cliffs near Ballybunion. I can’t really tell you how these voluptuously sculpted cliffs have affected me.

The 180 foot undulating cliffs are magic.

They are life, light, and lichen, striated at angles that show the tumultuous heaves of the earth.

They are water, both calm and screaming, and breath, both soft and harsh against the sandy shore.

They are tiny flowers seemingly too delicate to fight for light and space, and yet they thrive.

They are hope and bliss and longing and celebration and dancing like a hurricane.

They are peace and hope and joy.

They are every one of us.

Inspired by a month-long artist residency graciously provided by Olive Stack Gallery, Listowel, County Kerry, Ireland.

Fly

/ Pam Goode / 5 Comments

My dad used to dream about flying. In the dreams, he’d crouch down and begin flapping his arms until he took off exploring the universe. Me, not so much. I think I’ve dreamt of flying twice, and both times I was able to lift off, but then just bounced around the ceiling. It was a start, but hardly exhilarating.

A few days ago though, a cool thing happened. I was walking through the neighborhood and uncharacteristically glanced up, up, up. To my utter surprise, two storks were soaring around in the sky above me, and they were absolutely gorgeous.

I’m somewhat accustomed to wildlife. Our house fronts on heavily wooded areas that promise a daily bounty of one bird/rodent/fish or another. There are often herons in the creek, standing quite still with eyes focused hard on the flowing water for edibles, plenty of owls hooting back and forth in the afternoons and evenings, or once when I drove home in the dark, an owl who flew beside my car, his eyes perfectly level with mine until I reached the house and off he went. Lately our frequent flyer has been a rather hefty hawk that perches at the tippy-top of a cypress wavering from the weight, and a bit too close to the bird feeder for my comfort. We also have plenty of deer that trot across the creek and wander the backyards, showing their babies the ropes. And of course mystery animals. One morning we noticed HUGE footprints in the mud near the creek after a rain, and we never had a clue who made them ….

But no storks.

And then suddenly there were two. Two drop-dead gorgeous birds flew together in graceful circles directly above me — not over the creek, but on my city street, and I was awe-struck.

So I’ve been reading up on them. Storks can live thirty-nine years. They’re among the highest flying birds in the world, and travel up to 16 miles an hour. Were it not for the height, you could mistake them for ballerinas, stretching necks and legs and wings to create a very Rudolf Nureyev look as they fly.

They’re pure magic, and I’m taking their message to heart.

(Stock (or Stork) Photo)