Shiva's and Metta's Mother's Sutra

It looks like it has been raining non-stop in Singapore now for the past two months. Trees have been crashing and people have been moaning about floods. Why are there floods, they intone. There are floods because there is too much of water and there is too much of water because probably of sea level rise and a change in rainfall patterns. These are not entirely imponderables. And somewhere like Singapore, with not an awful lot of height, does have quite a lot to worry about. The great cities of the world which were built around estuaries, like London and New York, will have much to worry about too. I was looking back at my previous years' blog entries. And i'm hoping that when i get back from Singapore i will have my very own computer. My own laptop. My own laptop was taken by Peter to be used some years back and when he had no more need of it, he sent it to be repaired and then shipped off to Kenya without telling me about it. Such was the love the bore me. But because i had o...

Ghin and i spent the latter half of last week in South Down - driving all over the place, from Rostrevor to Newry, walking, trying coffee, seeing forest parks and visiting large stones. The weather was mostly indifferent, with occassional spots of sunshine, so we made the best of it. Ask me, we did it. Kilbroney Forest Park, Silent Valley, Spelga Dam, Kilkeel Harbour, the works. Ghin has gotten used to just having me to himslef now - again - and when Oisin tried to get into the tent, he screamed, "You're smelly Oisin, get out!" I took very few photos, because i just couldn't be bothered, after a while.... Warrenpoint - those are the Coolie mountains in the background. The Republic of Ireland. It's mind-boggling how close to the border we are there really. It turned out to be a greally good day after all - and you can see some sunshine happening over the clouds... Here we are in Newry - at this cafe called Red. It was alright. What i do not understand is why in the...

We went to Eddie's this morning and got a whole load of moths - probably around 300 - in the self-made trap. It was a pretty impressive haul. Most of them were orange underwings, or as Eddie said Dave used to call them, orange underpants. This one is one of the giants of the moths here - the poplar hawk moth. A female. A mixed variety of moths - including the garden tiger... the one that looks like it's wearing leopard print. Here it is when it displays fully... I think what i love most about moths is that they are so tame and allow you to handle them without much fuss. And that they're also very friendly - they don't sting or bite! A good first intro to the invert work for kids. Here's Ghin holding the garden tiger. He was totally blown away! This is a Chinese character - the smudge on the right that looks like bird droppings. And here are the egg cartons that the moths attached themselves to. The scary looking insects are Lough Neagh flies - what our swallows, swi...

I'll be offline now for a few days, possibly until i get to Singapore... Which will be Friday next week. If anyone is going to be htere, please phone me on my mom's phone on 98765108. I don't think many people read this blog, but just in case you do. x

The boys are simply tremendous. I grow to love them more each day. They are funny, beautiful, delightful souls - just full of imagination and mischeif. Exactly how you'd want children to be. Ghin is wonderful at the backchat - Mom, you're so annoying, i want a new mommy - and Oisin is tender and sweet, with long eyelashes that bejewel with tears when he cries. My heart aches for them when i think of what life may have in store. The road ahead is uncertain for me, nevermind them, and i feel as if i am now entering a dark forest, with the both of them on either side of me. We have left a prison, and are now entering the dark forest which will take us to freedom. As lights, friends and family, as i struggle - we struggle. They do not know it, i am filled with dread. What have we done? What will we do? All terrifying questions which can only be answered by time itself.

Lately i've been thinking about what needs to happen in order for life to be meaningful - in every sense of the word. Not small and self interested, but contributing and rich. And the conclusion i've come to is that it must involve a good balance between the personal - being very sure about what i need and want - and to reflect that in the wider world. It's like a well-tuned musical instrument and good practise. If you're playing beautifully, but the piano is out of tune, you might as well forget it. And if you have a well tuned piano and a terrible pianist, then the same is also true. So its about knowing what i need to do to nourish the personal and then i will be able to contribute. And it is easier than it seems. Listening to the heart and then allowing the head to work is key. And everything being imbued with the spirit - the spirit is the glue that holds it all together. Because even a machine can play a concerto perfectly, but it cannot do so with feeling and bri...

We do not have internet connection at home now because the computers have viruses. I’m sort of putting off buying or getting anything till I arrive in Singapore. There I might get a new laptop. So I did not look at the computer for five days, which is a sort of mini record. Instead Ghin and I just mooched about the house, went to Portmore Lough, had dinner with friends and spent sometime admiring roses in the International Rose Festival. An astounding number of roses were from Denmark – astounding. Didn’t understand that at all. Someone must go for an annual trip to Denmark from Botanic Gardens or something. I’m feeling really ratty as well. I think that not having run for five days now – and probably not running for the next two have really taken their toll on my nerves. I’m so fed up with not being able to run – and as a result I’m fed up with most of life. Work is also fecking me off. People are not coming back to me and I’m not able to get anything that I’m supposed to do done.

Last night I went to see a film, the film by Coppola, called Tetro. It was really really bad. It was really really bad because firstly it was obviously so expensive to make and then it was so bad because it was so overdone. Just emotions which a 23-year old filmmaker just out of film school, wearing black and smoking cigarillos would have insisted on putting on camera (ah feel my pain!, er, no not really, also don’t want to) and the pretension which became boredom and then eventually farce. Oh it was shite. It was like The Godfather, but with indulgent artists. You might enjoy it if you were on the wrong side of 26, but nothing else will really allow you to sit through that melange of overblown theatricality and not go, oh my god, I have wasted like 300 minutes of my life – I’m including reading the brochure, getting there, waiting for the film to start, and then going home. No. I KNEW it was going to be bad. I do not know why but I did. So I had dinner last night at the sushi place an...

This picture is of a juvenile swift by a friend and ex-colleague, Anthony McGeehan. Anthony takes some of the best bird photographs in the world, and this one of this baby swift is just utterly adorable. So i had to put it on. No irony here, i promise you. I had some really weird dreams last night. When i woke up, i thought, oh my god, no is ever going to love me again! And then i had to give myself a good shake and go, no, you'll be fine. So i got out of bed and went downstairs and made some coffee, did the dishes and then played some piano. And i felt much better. Sigh. But it is ridiculous, of course. The whole point is that life does get better and that things will improve. The only way can be up. Went for a run today. I have a blister on my heel that is never getting better because i'm running on it and one of my knees is a bit sore because i slightly twisted it last week on a slippery bridge while i was running. So, i feel like i'm going through the wars. On the brigh...

There is something about Star Wars, and Darth Vadar, in particular, that really speaks to little boys. The mask, and the darkness, the goodness beneath and the fact he is Luke's father is a very complex mix. We now have two DV masks. One of them was bought when Oisin was around 5. The other, at Willowstone. People thought it was very funny having DV dancing to Ska. Ghin has now inherited this mask for the time being and was delighted. Here he is giving Oisin and beating of his life. It's a good thing the other mask is made of hard plastic. You looking at me?

There is something about the writings of Mark PAtrick Herdman which i cannot put my finger on. In this book i read by him last night called Symbolism: The Glory of Escutcheoned Doors, he talks about this otherworld which as human beings we have a connection to but especially in Western culture have had drummed out of us - chiefly by education. He starts off well and then begins to meander. Into various things which don't make much sense to me. I enjoyed the first bit of the book, becuase it does acknowledge the unseen and how the arts is one of the conduits to it. And then it gets all holy... and i think that's the problem with his writings in the end. He tries to shoehorn mysticism and the mystery into Christianity. And because he writes from a position of enfranchisement, it becomes difficult to fully leave behind the supports that he has. We all live prescribed lives, lives where we have limits, but somehow, the sexual limit also makes his writing miss something. Every now a...

I am a cheerful, happy, optimist - i know i am. I know that this is, at the core my heart. And of course i become disappointed and sad, but who does not. However, i must think about where this happens and what i need to do... ignoring seems a good tactic. Being happy and ignoring the Cloud of Misery when it arrives or when it is present. Or being happy despite it - and then ignoring everything about it. I am protecting myself and looking after the boys, i must remember that.

This evening i promised Ghin i'd take him to a cafe. I'll probably go to Little Wing in Ballyhack. It's a small pizz place for small people and quite nice too. Plus it's a lovely evening today. Or maybe i'll go to Daft Eddie's instead. Or Balloo House. For dessert. I'm making a bean-rice thing - with some sour cream and cheesy thing. And avocado. And some tomato pasta saucey thing. It will be perfect for a summer's evening. I shall take a photo a put it on here.

So i don't know why the camera does this right... but it loads stuff which are appearing later on. It's a bug thing... so i'#ll explain this picture later on. This is Ghin, last week, at the Waterfront, on the Lagan. I just have more and more respect for this river, the more i learn about it. Like so many rivers, now that other modes of transport have tkaen over the owlrd, namely flight and road, its emptiness belies the business and the importance from times past. Here Ghin and i sit, waiting for Oisin at circus school. It's the most beautiful calm and sunny day and we are just hanging out. I'm so glad that i have document so much of our lives. It's the ordinary that i acutally find most touching when i look back and recall. The Nemo bag was bought by mom for Oisin, as was the T-shirt, when he was about Ghin's age. We now use it as Ghin's book bag. It is actually really well-designed. I had a good look at it the other day and as really impressed with t...

Getting reading for the camp and then the boat trip. That's life isn't it? It all comes together like buses. Looking forward to hanging with Oisin and being all chilled and happy and like that. This morning and woke and played some piano. The Goldberg, of course. I'm moving on to the first variation now and believe i will never finished the 32 in my lifetime. I'm not a gifted pianist, or even a talented one or even a passable one. My approach to piano is slow and tedious and laborious, learning each note individually and my fingers are dreadfully unco-ordinated. So doing piano, although it gives me much pleasure, the results often betray the joy in the learning process. That said, the achievement of small things is so much more blissful. And it is a great example of how you don't have to be good at something to enjoy it. Things go on pretty much the same here. I make preparations for leaving for Singapore and everything else in between. I cannot believe it has been ...

Such a day. Can’t wait for tomorrow when we go to Willowstone and I get lots and lots of groovy pictures. I have a new lease of life and it is FANTASTIC!!!! OK, that and the coffee. Canna be beaten. Last night I felt quite hungry at about 1.30 but managed to resist the urge to rummage in the fridge, going, what is the point of staring myself all day, if I’m going to blow it at night. Also, I had a fabbo sushi/sashimi dinner thingy and that made me so happy and satisfied that I had to give thanks to biodiversity for the largesse of the sea. Although that might not be true for much longer, in fact it isn’t even true now. BUT my whole point is, I lay in bed, wondering, should I do something about the bombsite downstairs that was detonated by Oisin’s first day of the holidays, or should I play the piano, knowing full well that I won’t be able to do that in a bombsite, or should I stay in bed and try and sleep. Which I wasn’t able to do either. So, I decided to read DeLillo’s Underworld, wh...

The weight is slowly coming off, i'm happy to report. But i will probably still be the largest whale at the pool, thanks to all the skinny bitches that litter the streets of Singapore. I try to explain this to my friends who think i am outta my head to diet. You don't understand, i say. Women in Singapore are stick thin. Do they not eat? They ask. Yeah they do, but i have Polynesian genes. I just get fat too easily. And they have pure Chinese genes and they invented the cheongsam, so think about it. We invent the sarong, with it's tremendous versatility and infinitely expanding waistline. I also love swimming ion sarongs, which are far sexier than swimming costumes, but that is a different story. Anyway. I'm sure that i'll be presentable by the time i get to Singapore. I don't want to be thin, just toned and not making strange waves when i enter the pool.

Went to see this film yesterday called Kicks. It was odd. It reminded me of Asian cinema, circa 1995. You know, the long silences and the meaning looks. The boredom that says everything. Anyhow, it was about these two girls in Liverpool who are obsessed with this footballer. And when he is transferred to Real Madrid, they go and kidnap him. It was very funny when you discovered they had kidnapped him. At the centre of the film was the hollowness of life now. Beyond money and celebrity which is nothing is nothing. Life is nothing. The ugly, scooped out urban landscape offers no redemption. Is that what life is like for so many people? The frustration of never being able to touch themselves? To be free and honest with themselves? There is this verse from Ryokan: My hut lies in the middle of a dense forest; Every year the green ivy grows longer. No news of the affairs of men, Only the occasional song of a woodcutter. The sun shines and I mend my robe; When the moon comes out i read Bhuddi...