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#irish folklore
willtheweaver · a day ago
Quarentine blog day 422
The Roan
All around the northern seas
The wind swept waters blessed in summer by
The warmth of the sun
Isles and sea stacks reverberate with
An unearthly chorus.
Voices almost human
But not quite
The notes, ethereal and yet
Rooted in this world
Flowing like the currents
And the incoming tide.
Where sand meets the sea
Footsteps that go nowhere
With neither start nor end
And in the fog, one may see
An outline
Vaguely human
Upon the rocks
But as mist melts and
One moves closer
The shadow is gone.
All there is and was
Was it even real?
In the grey waters nearby
A shape stirs
Sleek and grey below the surface
And all around
A haunting, beautiful melody.
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sadbhkellett · 2 days ago
Draíocht is a new commission by folklore and mythology researcher and writer, Sadbh Kellett, exploring the triad of personas of the pagan goddess, Brigid - Brigid of Spring, Brigid of the Forge, and Brigid of Women. Each monologue explores the perceptions we have of Brigid’s mythology and translates her story into modern day, through English and Irish. Presented over three afternoons, this video trilogy of spoken word, folk song and local footage captured from the Meath landscape is designed to bring a fresh take on some of the ancient stories that our culture has to offer. To support this event, and over 50 artists and arts workers involved in the festival, please consider donating at: The recommended donation for this event is €2.
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dianasson · 5 days ago
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𝐒𝐚𝐦𝐡𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐡, 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐡𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐡, 𝐛𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞 𝐧𝐚 𝐧𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐡𝐧𝐚, 𝐓𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐫 𝐟𝐞́𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐡𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐡 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐧. 𝐒𝐚𝐦𝐡𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐡 𝐛𝐮𝐢́ 𝐧𝐚 𝐧𝐨́𝐢𝐧𝐢́𝐧 𝐠𝐥𝐞́𝐠𝐞𝐚𝐥, 𝐓𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐫 𝐟𝐞́𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐡𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐡 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐧. 𝐓𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐧 𝐞́ 𝐨́𝐧 𝐠𝐜𝐨𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐚𝐨𝐛𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐠𝐡, 𝐓𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐫 𝐟𝐞́𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐡𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐡 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐧. 𝐒𝐚𝐦𝐡𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐡 𝐛𝐮𝐢́ 𝐨́ 𝐥𝐮𝐢́ 𝐧𝐚 𝐠𝐫𝐞́𝐢𝐧𝐞, 𝐓𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐫 𝐟𝐞́𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐡𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐡 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐧. Summer, Summer, milk of the calves, We have brought the Summer in. Yellow summer of clear bright daisies, We have brought the Summer in. We brought it in from the leafy woods, We have brought the Summer in. Yellow Summer from the time of the sunset, We have brought the Summer in.
So grateful for all the friends, old and new, who made my first Bealtaine in Maine special. Emily was on the fiddle AND the host for a splendid and safe celebration, along with cohost Maggie dancing so wonderfully in that video with Becca.
I hope everyone had an equally lovely Bealtaine/May Day! I'm so ready for flowers and sun. 🍻
(The usual busy start to May means I'm posting this totally on time according to the Julian calendar... 😬 definitely counts.) ... [Image/video descriptions: (1) Video in color, two folks irish-dancing outside on small wooden boards. They are wearing light costumes of gossamer and blackbird wings, the sun is shining, and the camera pans once to show the fiddler standing before them.(2) Selfie, big red bask on my face, and a flower crown with lots of pink and white baby’s-breath on my curls. The sky is super blue behind me and you can see some trees in the background. (3) Photo. The sun shines above a steal pole jutting into a clear sky. I am reaching up to tie ribbons onto the pole, my head is about level with trees in the background. The visible ribbons are pink and yellow. (4) Photo of a bunch of cheese and crackers on a plate with honey. There’s some polish pottery on the table and a bottle of whiskey - the name “Paddy’s” is clearly shown. (5) Photo of a bouquet of butter-yellow carnations and baby’s-breath, in a blue vase on the table next to some candles and the same bottle of whiskey.(6) Still photo of the same maypole from earlier with the tree behind it. You can see higher up on the pole now, where the flower crown is flung and hangs above the ribbons. End descriptions.]
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thefugitivesaint · 9 days ago
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Vera Bock (1905-1973), ''King of the Cats'' by Eileen O'Faolian, 1942 Source
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dambusta-animations · 10 days ago
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Part 2 of my #FanArtFriday extravaganza! :) I said before how much I love the film Wolfwalkers and what with the #Oscars being so recent I knew I had to do this!
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crimsonkingart · 14 days ago
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Day 2, Kelpie 🌊🌊 According to some myths, this water horse can take on human form, usually a man, for wedd a woman.
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seashellronan · 17 days ago
happy may day everyone don’t forget to leave your flowers out!
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onlydreamofmysoul · 17 days ago
Hi, yes hello
I’m very bored at the doctors off will you tell me a story
Love, Trash Monster :)
Oh gosh, the boredom in waiting rooms is real I’m sorry my dude.
Let’s see, uh I don’t have many personal ones rn cause my brain is blank but I can tell an Irish one cause they’re on my brain
This one is called Óisín i dTír na nóg (Oisín in the land of the youth)
There was once a young man named Óisín, son to Fionn, one of the greatest Irish warriors. Like his father, Óisín was a member of the Fíanna, the most skilled and powerful band of warriors in all of Ireland. One day, Fionn, Óisín and some of the other members of the Fíanna were out hunting when the most beautiful woman rode up on a pristine white horse.
The woman’s name was Niamh, and she was the daughter of the king of Tír na nÓg, the magical land of eternal youth. She had been watching Óisín for a long time, and she had fallen in love with him. She asked him to come with her back to Tír na nÓg.
Óisín agreed, as from the moment his eyes fell on her, he loved her too. He knew leaving meant he would never return to his family, and though he was sad to leave his father and Ireland, he climbed up on the horse and they rode across the sea to Tír na nÓg.
Many years passed and Óisín and Niamh were very happy. They had several children and a wonderful life, but Óisín missed his homeland, his friends and family. He went to Niamh and asked if he could go visit, just to see them one last time. Eventually, Niamh agreed, giving him her magic horse.
"But do not get off the horse," Niamh warned, just before he left. "If your feet touch Irish soil, you will never be able to return here again."
Óisín nodded, and with that he left, riding once more across the sea. When he arrived back in Ireland however, he could see much had changed. No one recognised him and much of the landscape had evolved. Óisín spotted a group of men, struggling to move a boulder from the road.
"Where are Fionn and the Fíanna?" Óisín asked, surprised the men couldn’t move the rock. All the men he had known could have moved it with the flick of their wrist they were so strong. The men just looked confused, until the eldest, a shrivelled old man with a long white beard looked up.
"Do you mean the old legends? They haven’t been around for hundreds of years."
Óisín was in shock. What had been three years in Tír na nÓg was three hundred years in Ireland. But he thanked the men, and offered to move the boulder for them.
The men didn’t believe he could do it, but staying seated on the horse, Óisín reached down and picked the boulder up with one hand. However when he did so, the strap of his saddle snapped and Óisín came crashing to the ground, the magical white steed galloping away.
The moment he hit the soil, Óisín became a shrivelled old man, his age catching up with him. He was devastated to never return to Niamh and his children, but he spent the rest of his life travelling around Ireland and telling the tales of old, of Fionn and the Fíanna and many many more. It is because of Óisín that we still know and remember these stories today.
The end!
I hope this helps ease the boredom!!
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metime-1996 · 17 days ago
Watch Wolfwalkers (2020)
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leeoconnor · 19 days ago
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First five pages of the FIONN graphic novel finished! Written, drawn, coloured, lettered.
Next step is to carry on finishing pages, to get a pitch to publishers together.
(Ironically, the great thing about finishing something is finding out how it needs to change. And change it will, the very beginning of the story needs to really work well.) Anyway, thanks for your patience.
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kabrainy · 20 days ago
Song of the Sea (2014)
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Come away oh human child, to the waters and the wild, with a fairy, hand in hand, for the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.
This Irish folklore inspired animated film was fantastic. Cartoon Saloon has a knack for not treating the audience like babies, and its really well appreciated. 
The animation was absolutely beautiful. Each shot looks like a work of art. The backgrounds, scenery and character designs looked phenomenal. The music was very strong and felt right with the story. The drama was very well conveyed and every emotion was felt throughout (I cried a few times). The similarities between the main characters and the mystical characters was really cool. It further emphasizes that we were kind of seeing this film through a child’s eyes.
You don't really see many Irish folklore inspired animations (at least we haven't seen too much,) but the story of the selkies and how its connected to this small family is quite unique and well intertwined. We definitely learned more about Irish folklore from this film. 
There were a few plot convinces (possible deus ex machina). Everything comes together and gets solved in too neat of a neatly with little hiccups. 
Overall, we really enjoyed it. Not better than Wolfwalkers, but pretty good.
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finelythreadedsky · 21 days ago
i am this close to translating Γίγαντες as “Ogres” in my odyssey paper but i worry that the pall shrek has cast over my generation forbids me
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the-god-of-illusion · 24 days ago
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For the elemental creatures go
About my table to and fro,
That hurry from unmeasured mind
To rant and rage in flood and wind;
Yet he who treads in measured ways
May surely barter gaze for gaze.
Man ever journeys on with them
After the red-rose-bordered hem.
Ah, faeries, dancing under the moon,
A Druid land, a Druid tune!
To Ireland in the Coming Times
by William Butler Yeats
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fae-faun-child · 25 days ago
Going to make a separate blog for my studies in Gaeilge, Irish folklore and myths, and Irish culture in general. I’ll rb with the @ whent it’s done!
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pink-lemonade-rose · 29 days ago
Many poets, and all mystic and occult writers, in all ages and countries, have declared that behind the visible are chains on chains of conscious beings, who are not of heaven but of the earth, who have no inherent form but change according to their whim, or the mind that sees them. You cannot lift your hand without influencing and being influenced by hordes. The visible world is merely their skin. In dreams we go amongst them, and play with them, and combat with them. They are, perhaps, human souls in the crucible - these creatures of whim.
W.B. Yeats, Fairy and Folk Tales of the Irish Peasantry
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