Starving Artist Ink.

Oh sorry, is this thing on? haha.

It's 'Love Thursday!'-and so not like me to wait this long to write about what I love…but you see, I just woke up from a nap-ha! something that I also adore…

e.darcy

But nothing… NOTHING naps like this little bundle. le sigh–say it with me.

e.darcy

Should I even go into depth of how baby crazy-head over heels I am?  Doesn't this give enough evidence to say that I'm on the verge of needing some baby rehab? : )
Yep, this is baby Orrin James-and he is a treat… He literally slept all day long, makes the best baby faces when he is trying to wake up-Angela says he's just like his dad on that one. hehe

{before} e.darcy

{after} e.darcy

 So, for Love Thursday-I spent the wonderful afternoon in Angela's beautiful home, ooh'ing and aah'ing over her new babe… She made me a fabulous lunch and we just sat and talked forever. It was such a treat to take her maternity pictures–but even better to get the afters-with baby cuddles and all…

Maybe when Orrin wakes up, we'll get the entire family in one big shot!

I thought that I was feeling at loss for words-but really what I'm experiencing is the quiet whispers of my soul…. I'm listening to the rain pound deep into the earth, watching the clouds rolling lazily in the distance…

Tufts of white smoke crawl from chimney tops-twirling and disappearing… Birds busy themselves, playful songs in the evening sun…

The windows cracked open-to welcome the cool breeze, the smells of autumn… The roasted orange colours, deep burnt browns, rustic earthy reds…  I'm feeling very nostalgic.

e.darcy

The falling leaves drift by my window
The falling leaves of red and gold
I see your lips, the summer kisses
The sunburned hands I used to hold

Since you went away the days grow long
And soon I'll hear old winter's song
But I miss you most of all, my darling
When autumn leaves start to fall
-Eva Cassidy

e.darcy

We will ignore the cult of doom and gloom and embrace the cause of zoom and boom. We will laugh at the stupidity of evil and hate, and summon the brilliance to praise and create. No matter how upside-down it all may temporarily appear, we will have no fear because we know this secret: Life is crazily in love with us—wildly and innocently in love with us. The universe always gives us exactly what we need, exactly when we need it. 
-Libra Horoscope

September… the beginning of grey clouds, and colourful trees… Pencils and notebooks stuffed in book bags, early mornings of fog and misty rain. The glow of the street lamps just give off the air of autumn-the crisp coolness filling my lungs…

e.darcy

Today, a mixture of heavy rains and brilliant suns-the god's cannot decide which game to play. There's something so hopeful, so inspirational, so uplifting–even as the dark gets darker, the days that come to an end much too early, the blanket of stars covering the night sky. Through the grey, through the wet, the cold, the damp and depressing-there is life thriving, waiting… It is only just the beginning of something magical.

e.darcy

I'm normally very confident. Or–well so it appears. I'm dead set on being who I am without conforming to others ideas of how I should be-I stand up for my beliefs even if that leaves me the only one standing… I speak up to declare the injustices, to shout out truths, to try to motivate people to THINK for themselves. I wish so much that people would question what they do-and why… To give reason and answer… I'm passionate about so many things in life-and will debate to the core for you to know this.

But the other side of me is insecure and shy. Unsure of myself, confidence–non-existent. Walking past a group of girls, I instantly clam up- occasionally, a walk past the same girls-I'd give them so much attitude and presence that they'd step aside to let me past.  I have a voice-but sometimes that voice is just barely above a whisper.

My confession is that I am two sides of a front-I'm confident and outgoing, shy and reserved. Both of them very much who I am-both of them showing their faces… And to be honest, I like both of them–but the shy one needs more confidence, and the outgoing one needs to listen more.

In bid for confidence, for experience, for inspiration–the shy girl walked the streets in Galway City yesterday… and guess what? I lived to tell the tale! Normal hustle and bustle of people, beautiful colours of culture coming together-swimming with artists and their work, buskers playing heavenly music… I missed the bus on purpose-and then missed the second bus!

e.darcy

Had a second shoot today, with little Ruán-had to make up for last weeks camera malfunctions. Hmph. Well worth it–because I got some pretty amazing shots if I do say so myself. Quite seriously…some of my most favourites.

Before a shoot, I go over and over in my head the ideas I want to capture-I even think of ways to word it. Come the shoot? Those things just fly out the window, I crawl into myself–and I can't articulate what I want… Luckily-some people just do it for you.

Right when I got home (from exploring the city!!) I uploaded the pictures and right away found so many treasures-that it gave me butterflies…

e.darcy

(This last picture BEGS to be painted… I might have to give it a go.)

Thanks again-for the warm welcome, and the most beautiful pictures!

Sometimes I forget that I live in a foreign country… That my own accent slips away and floats along with the Irish. That my words and spellings have changed and become so familiar to me that I don't recognize them as different.

I've always been one to keep true to myself-be myself-'stand out in a crowd' sort of thing. -When it comes to travel however, I'm a 'when in Rome' kinda girl. So when in Ireland, do as the Irish do-I speak in a hushed voice, I say 'sorry' instead of 'excuse me', I keep quiet and say 'howya' to a passerby. I even eat butter on my ham sandwiches without thinking that it is weird to do in America.

Then there are times that I am reminded that this isn't where I am from. Words being exchanged and taken up wrong on both parties… Difficulty pronouncing names of towns or even people.  Walking through the streets hearing colourful languages being twisted off the tongue… English, Irish, Portugese, Spanish, German, Chinese…You name it. I listen in to those conversations-trying to decide if they are from Russia, or Hungary. Picking the face out in the crowd that is from the Ukraine, and those that stand out from America.

Sometimes I just watch Spongebob on TG4(dedicated channel for Irish speakers)–which is psychedelic in it's own right…

Today, while at the ATM a boy and his mother wait in line behind me-I over hear him talking about a kid in his class that is from Connemara that speaks only Irish. He was baffled by it-couldn't get over it. and ended the little conversation with 'why can't they just speak English like everyone else?!'

Sigh. I wish right here–that I could say that the mother said something clever, to let him know that keeping the language alive is one of the best things-that Irish is spoken in the west for a reason, and that if you go to Dublin and speak Irish, they'll shout at you to go back to your own country… Instead, the mother smiled and said nothing.

There is nothing better than getting a little note from someone. Just a little something. To say 'hey', to say 'I'm thinking about you', to say 'I love you'… Even just a little smily face. Those thoughtful little words written down always mean so much-even when they say so little.

e.darcy

Mom and I used to leave little notes back and forth. I might write her a little note in the morning before she'd go to work. She might leave a little note stuffed in my bag to find as a surprise later… As much as I love getting these little notes here and there-I love giving them even more!

So here is my note to you today;

This day will never happen again.

Whatever that means to you for today–please. Take. Have. Embrace. If I could attach a little lipstick kiss to that, I would…

e.darcy

'She'd stopped reading the kind of women's magazines that talked about romance and knitting… and started reading the kind of women's magazines that talked about orgasms but apart from making a mental note to have one-if ever the occasion presented itself, she dismissed them as only romance and knitted in a new form.'
-Terry Pratchett {Good Omens}

Today I crave the ocean. Not just THE ocean-but my ocean…My Pacific. My heart is heavy for it.

I crave to smell the salty air, to let the crisp coolness numb my face. To let my fingers dance in shallow tide pools, a peek into a secret treasure filled world…

We used to load up into the jeep, blankets and rainboots packed. Heading to the coast in the early hours-to beat the seagulls to the newest sanddollars the ocean just brought in… The cold wind chapping our faces, the rough water swelling high. Grey clouds looming over head and lightning in the far distance. Honestly, the most beautiful and peaceful places I have ever known…

I crave to go back to that little motel at the dock, where the tug boats pull in with loud horns into the night. Where the bridges raise up and lights flash. Where the fog hovers close to the earth until the sun finally chases it away…