Worstward Ho, by Samuel Beckett
“Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try Again. Fail again. Fail better.” (from Worstward Ho, 1983; Samuel Beckett 1906 – 1989) Irish Writer, best known for his play Waiting for Godot in 1952 and winning the Noble Prize Literature in 1969. ©Willeke Van Eeckhoutte and Ireland, Multiple Sclerosis & Me, 2011-2013. Unauthorised use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Willeke Van Eeckhoutte and Ireland, Multiple Sclerosis & Me with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
W.B. Yeats in Sligo, Ireland
In July I visited Sligo in the west of Ireland, where William Butler Yeats is engraved in Drumcliffe near his beloved Ben Bulben mountain. Since I am a big fan of Irish literature, and have a very definite weakness for Yeats’ poetry and life, I took several pictures from a different angle. I was trying out my new smartphone and unfortunately for the thingie; it had to take a lot of photography abuse from my part! Bronze and stone sculpture featuring “He Wishes For the Cloths of Heaven” at Drumcliffe Cemetery; work of the well-known sculptor Jackie McKenna of the Leitrim Sculpture Centre. “Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths, Enwrought with golden and silver light, The blue and the dim and the dark cloths Of night and light and the…
The Second Coming, by William Butler Yeats
Turning and turning in the widening gyre The falcon cannot hear the falconer; Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned; The best lack all conviction, while the worst Are full of passionate intensity. Surely some revelation is at hand; Surely the Second Coming is at hand. The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert A shape with lion body and the head of a man, A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun, Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds. The darkness drops again;…
Being active
Last week I received an invitation to take part in the 2013 National Meeting Day panel discussion on September 28th by the MS Society of Ireland. Needlessly, I accepted straight away as ‘Being Active and Interactive’ is something that lies close to my heart. If you’ve been part of my blogging community for a while, you already know my online involvement in regards to writing about life with multiple sclerosis as an unwelcome passenger. Because of this, adding something worthwhile to a panel discussion about how staying active and being part of an online community can lead to a very fulfilling pastime – no matter how dull or uninviting it sounds – is something I absolutely want to be part of. As a child and teen, being involved and fighting…
From The Frontier Of Writing, by Seamus Heaney
The tightness and the nilness round that space when the car stops in the road, the troops inspect its make and number and, as one bends his face towards your window, you catch sight of more on a hill beyond, eyeing with intent down cradled guns that hold you under cover and everything is pure interrogation until a rifle motions and you move with guarded unconcerned acceleration— a little emptier, a little spent as always by that quiver in the self, subjugated, yes, and obedient. So you drive on to the frontier of writing where it happens again. The guns on tripods; the sergeant with his on-off mike repeating data about you, waiting for the squawk of clearance; the marksman training down out of the sun upon you like a…
My precious boots!
WordPress Daily Prompt: These Boots Were Made for Walking Tell us about your favorite pair of shoes, and where they’ve taken you. Photographers, artists, poets: show us WALK. Already blogged about my favourite boots on April 1st, 2013, so for those who want to read it, here’s the link: Iconic and Princesses and Docs I’m one day late replying to this Daily Prompt but just wanted to showcase my Dr Martens boots again. I know… just can’t get enough of them!
Contrary!
“You’re just being contrary!” my mum used to say. I think that from a young age, she must have found me indeed, a bit different than other kids my age. I wasn’t rebellious, in fact as a teen I was anything but rebellious, but you might say that I went through the usual girly teen behaviour so many of us poor women went through. I fell in and out of love with pop stars, loved singing and dancing and enjoyed an outdoor lifestyle with many of my friends. Perhaps my generation was the last one to grow up without mobile phones, without game consoles to play bowling without the actual ball and tennis without being on a tennis court.