"There are some enterprises in which a careful disorderliness is the true method". Herman Melville

"I know nothing but miracles." Walt Whitman

sábado, 8 de setembro de 2012

Tir Na Nog

This is the small canvas I painted when I experimented with oils for the first time. It´s an illustration of Tir Na Nog, an Island in the irish mythology where the soul of the death go. My mother had recently died, and I was listening to this mystical song by Van Morrison. (The moon doesn´t look right, unless there´s a lunar eclipse going on...)
Listen to the music: The Lyrics: We were standing in the kingdom And by the mansion gate We stood enraptured by the silence As the birds sang their heavenly song In Tir Na Nog We stopped in the church of Ireland And prayed to our father And climbed up the mountainside With fire in our hearts And we walked all the way to Tir Na Nog I said with my eyes that I recognized your chin It was my long lost friend To help me from another lifetime We took each others hands and cried Like a river when we said hello And we walked to Tir Na Nog We made a big connection On a golden autumn day We were standing in the garden wet with rain And our souls were young again In Tir Na Nog And outside the storm was raging Outside Jerusalem We drove in our chariots of fire Following the big sun in the west Going up, going up, to Tir Na Nog You came into my life And you filled me and you filled me Oh so joyous By the clear cool crystal streams Where the roads were quiet and still And we walked all the way To Tir Na Nog How can we not be attached After all we're only human The only way then is to never come back Except I wouldn't want that would you If we weren't together again In Tir Na Nog We've been together before In a different incarnation And we loved each other then as well And we sat down in contemplation Many many many times you kissed mine eyes In Tir Na Nog

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