…old paper comics… the genesis of my reading habit…

Remembering comics of the forties and fifties;)

Seumas Gallacher

…there are many modern innovations, I s’pose, for which the WURLD can be thankful, such as mobile telephones, iPads, Smartphones and the whole range of electronic communication devices which seem to have become transplanted parts of our anatomy… I see children in push carts playing with cartoon images on tiny screens… teenagers in clusters, each oblivious to the other, noses pronged into their wifi-laden machines… older, allegedly more mature people, congregated around dinner tables, constantly flicking the ‘light-up’ switch, every five minutes, while lending pretence to communal conversation… and I think back to when we, of a certain age, were children… none of these ‘insta-plug-me-into-the rest-of my-virtual-planet’ gizmos existed back then… we played games in the street… exercised all day (although we didn’t call it that) until darkness beckoned us home for supper… no need for text messages to bring us back…

…and we had comics… in the UK…

View original post 207 more words


The Art of a Doctor: Powesiu Lawes

Something from New Guinea 😉

Tribalmystic stories

A self-taught artist, this man showed artistic skills as a child by simply drawing fishermen on the sandy beaches in his remote Papua New Guinea village.  Years later, he ventured into higher education and became a medical doctor, yet never leaving behind his love of drawing.

Dr Powesiu Lawes on the beach at his beloved Loniu Village, Manus, Papua New Guinea.

Born in 1957 in Loniu Village, on Los Negros Island, in Manus Province, Powesiu Lawes’ art began as drawings in the sand. He recalls that he always enjoyed capturing images of fishermen catching fish on the reef at dawn and later at dusk.

A gifted school student, he quickly accelerated from Primary to Secondary School in Manus Province, during the Australian colonial administration. From his home province, Manus, he was selected into the elite Sogeri Senior High School outside Port Moresby (now PNG Capital) in the early 1970s. He…

View original post 891 more words

Missing Thursday Doors

Jean has moved 😉

Jean Reinhardt

We’ve moved! Cavan is now our home county and it’s really lovely here. At present we have no internet, in fact, we don’t even have an electricity supply, yet, but battery operated lamps and candles do a great job for now. However, I can access wifi a couple of times a week, so hopefully I’ll soon be resuming my regular Thursday Door posts – I’ve really missed participating in it.

One of the bonuses of living further north in the country is the fact that we are nearer family and next year we’ll be spending lots of time on the northern and north west coast, especially Donegal. We’ve been there a few times and on our last visit rented a house in Ardara, which featured in a Thursday Doors post, of course.

If you’d like to see Donegal from the air, have a look at Scenic Flyer’s beautiful video…

View original post 25 more words

Humans and our stories

A little something from Gipsika. 😉

the red ant

What is it that sets us apart from other animals?  What is uniquely human?

Leaving aside metaphorical speculations such as animals not having souls (anima = Latin for “soul”), and misconceptions such as, that only humans have tears for sadness and laughter for fun (there are other animals that laugh, and even some that cry tears when emotionally saddened), I think the one thing that is possibly most typically human, is stories.

I didn’t say, uniquely human.  Bees do an entire dance to tell each other where they found the nectar.

But, face it, we love stories.

Whether it is the gossip about the black sheep in the family, or stories about our childhood (“Do you remember?”), or stories of our ancestors or long bygone civilizations, or even stories that could be… fiction, wild flights, imagination…

I also believe we learn through stories.  My niece and nephew and I were…

View original post 285 more words


Something from Adam 😉


“Grab the nearest book.  Open it and go to the tenth word.  Do a Google Image Search on the word.  Write what the image brings to mind.”

Photographers, artists, poets show us BOOKS.” 


battle ww2 peleliuA picture, from a dusty old book
Depicted war in the South Pacific
Some seventy years, had gone by
Since that day, when
The sun barely shone
Through smoke and debris
No birds sang, nothing was green
Only desolation and devastation
As far, as the eye could see

Two, battle weary
Marines, hunkered down
Cradled, weapons
Their, only true friends
Dared, anything to move
Somehow, through this
Apocalyptic madness
Why, were they still there
When, others had perished?
Sentimentality, wasn’t an option
Another day, among many
That never seemed to end

View original post

Self-Belief and Writing

Amen to that…

Barb Caffrey's Blog

Folks, with the recent posts about self-acceptance, I figured I’d follow it up with how self-belief and writing mix — or don’t.

In my own experience, when I am more confident in myself, and I know that what I’m saying makes sense, I am more likely to make sense in writing than when I am more insecure.

And yet, insecurity is part of what drives a creative person. I can’t deny that. (No creative person can, really, not if he or she is smart.)

The trick is to balance the two. Be just insecure enough to want to write, to need to write (or play music, or compose music, or, I suppose, paint, draw, act, or any other creative pursuit), but be confident enough in what you can do — your belief in yourself, as it were — that you can actually sit down and do it. Without fear. Or…

View original post 513 more words

Sally’s Cafe and Bookstore Update – Amy M. Reade, Seumas Gallacher and Nicholas Rinth

More from Sally 😉

Smorgasbord - Variety is the spice of life

Welcome to the Friday cafe and bookstore update and we have some great new books to add to the shelves. The first is Highland Peril by Amy M. Reade which was published on 5th September.

About Highland Peril

Trading the urban pace of Edinburgh for a tiny village overlooking a breathtaking blue loch was a great move for budding photographer Sylvie Carmichael and her artist husband, Seamus—until a dangerous crime obscures the view . . .

Sylvie’s bucolic life along the heather-covered moors of the Highlands is a world away from the hectic energy of the city. But then a London buyer is killed after purchasing a long-lost Scottish masterpiece from Seamus’s gallery—and the painting vanishes. As suspicion clouds their new life, and their relationship, Sylvie’s search for answers plunges her into an unsolved mystery dating back to Cromwellian Scotland through World War I and beyond. And as she moves…

View original post 1,443 more words