Art is so Marmite
Someone once told me that their birthday was on 16 June. Ah, I said, you were born on Bloomsday. They looked at me, cluelessly. In
Someone once told me that their birthday was on 16 June. Ah, I said, you were born on Bloomsday. They looked at me, cluelessly. In
I’m a firm believer in old souls and past lives. Some of us – not all of us, but some of us – have been
Yesterday we breakfasted on liver and kidney, bacon and sausages, mushrooms and tomatoes, with a Cashel blue stepping in for the gorgonzola. A replica of the
“Every life is many days, day after day. We walk through ourselves, meeting robbers, ghosts, giants, old men, young men, wives, widows, brothers-in-law. But always
Week 26. Half-way through the year. It’s hotter than hades here in Budapest and I’m finding very little to be grateful for this week. The
When I first went to the USA, choices in Ireland still came in pairs: tea or coffee, catholic or protestant, married or single, cash or