Collecting Moments

I loved the colors in that shop. All those orange, red, black, blue little drops that Mary used to put in my hand. Seven of them - for each day of the week. My favorite candy was the pink one - it was sour and sweet at the same time and I left it until the last day. It reminded me of Mary. She lived in a dark cold house but always met us with a tender, beautiful smile. She had lovely kind eyes and told us the same story every time we dropped into the shop before going to the cinema on Saturday. I've forgotten it unfortunately. Last weekend I was in town and went over to buy sweets for my kids. Mary opened the door for me, smiled and said: “Remember I told you that my father had the first bicycle store in Roscommon…”

Just the beauty of time growing through...

Hiked 23 km today to see the Ballycowan castle (XVI c.). A middle-aged man opened the gate for us. He's been living all his life in a 500-year-old cottage on the farm next to the ruins. No wife, no children. All alone he's become as integral part of history as the castle in his backyard.

Заброшенный дом Вера в нём — Крест на стене. Покинутый дом Прошлое в нём — Портрет на столе. Оставленный дом Память в нём — Игрушки в шкафу. Забытый дом Боль в нём — Стекло на полу. Пустой дом Ветер в нём.

Trying to fill the void, the emptiness inside old formless space touched by time. Divided into rooms full of air, breath, life. Feeling young and pretty Like a little girl, amazed by the shadow on the wall, caught in the light. Undressed, free, warm in the freezing wind. A woman without age.

It might not look that impressive but it's the eighth wonder of the world - the Irish bog :)

It was just an ordinary day in the city. I walked a lot. Along the river, in the lanes, up to the cathedral, down to the market. I’m not a city girl anymore. I hardly visit any museums, galleries, castles or palaces. I’d probably go to an exhibition only if Egon Schiele will be in town. Abandoned derelict places still fascinate me though. That’s why the highlight of my wandering was the Cow Tower. Not much of a ruin (not much of a building either) but still a structure touched by time. But I didn’t realize that I missed urban energy. I was listening to a street musician at the square when that homeless man came up and sat next to me. He was stinky and very dirty. He rolled a cigarette, slowly smoked it, smiled, stood up and walked up to a clean, tidy, well-dressed guy with a big dog. The man started talking to the dog. He talked, the owner ignored him but the dog was listening. And suddenly it jumped on him and licked him. He embraced the dog, caressed it and kept on talking to it like