Category Archives: Art

Dear Wen: Sheaves…

Posted on August 20, 2020 by Sue Vincent

Dear Wen… Yes, indeed…A real bonus though to get the thread of the Erin trip given to us so clearly, and to have But ‘n’ Ben so nicely rounded off. Once again we ended up in quite different places than … Continue reading →

Posted in albion, Ancient sites, Art, Books, Don and Wen, france and vincent, Stuart France | Tagged landscape, magic, mystery, Mythology, Photography, psychology, story, The Silent Eye, writing | Leave a comment

Dear Don: Sheaves…

Posted on August 19, 2020 by Sue Vincent

Dear Don, Good trip, wasn’t it? Once again time seems to have been obliging and stretched itself to fit with our meanderings. We are going to need to go south again though, with all I am reading about Marden Henge … Continue reading →

Posted in albion, Ancient sites, Art, Books, Don and Wen, france and vincent | Tagged landscape, magic, mystery, Mythology, Photography, psychology, story, The Silent Eye, writing | 2 Comments

Dear Wen: Cheesehound…

Posted on August 18, 2020 by Sue Vincent

Dear Wen… I see no reason why I should be blamed for the images in your head… Slugs get a bad press okay, and they have a role in nature’s grand scheme, an important role, just like pigeons in fact, … Continue reading →

Posted in albion, Art, Books, Don and Wen, france and vincent | Tagged landscape, magic, mystery, Mythology, Photography, psychology, story, writing | Leave a comment

The House that Fish Built: Fat-Head…

Posted on August 16, 2020 by Sue Vincent

* “Indeed there is,” shouted Fat-Head, the son of Short-Neck, and he sprang into the middle of the mead house, “bend down you grizzly gawp, that I might cut off your head tonight and you to cut off mine tomorrow.” … Continue reading →

Posted in albion, Art, Books, france and vincent, Mythology, Stuart France | Tagged Fairy Tale, Folk Tale, magic, mystery, psychology, story, writing | Leave a comment

The House that Fish Built: Carle…

Posted on August 15, 2020 by Sue Vincent

* …Twice the height of any of the men of Albion was the horrible mantle about him and his hair was like a great spreading bush the size of a winter shed, under which thirty bullocks could easily find shelter. … Continue reading →

Posted in albion, Art, Books, Mythology, Stuart France | Tagged Fairy Tale, Folk Tale, magic, mystery, psychology, story, writing | Leave a comment

The House that Fish Built: Mead…

Posted on August 13, 2020 by Sue Vincent

* …So, Long-Horn O’Leary was taken into the presence of the one whose mouth is sweet: “Welcome,” said Maeve, “in preference to Connor Cruel-Crest, I assign to you a cup of gold with a bird chased in silver on its … Continue reading →

Posted in albion, Art, Books, france and vincent, Mythology, Stuart France | Tagged Fairy Tale, Folk Tale, landscape, magic, mystery, psychology, story, writing | 1 Comment

The House that Fish Built: Red-Gold…

Posted on August 12, 2020 by Sue Vincent

* …“How should these mighty men of war be greeted?” said Very-White… Said Sweet-Mouthed Maeve, “women to meet them, bonnie, full-breasted and bare, with strong ale, well malted, their food, not scanty but fare.” * So the heroes of Albion … Continue reading →

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The House that Fish Built: Very-White…

Posted on August 11, 2020 by Sue Vincent

* …Said Very-White, “it is but a drop before a shower: I see another chariot coming over the plain.” “Describe it,” said Sweet-Mouthed Maeve. Said Very-White, “I see the horses pulling the chariot: two fiery, spirited bays of great strength … Continue reading →

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The House that Fish Built: Cave of Cruachan…

Posted on August 10, 2020 by Sue Vincent

* …So the heroes of Albion set out for the Cave of Cruachan… Through the Gap-of-the-Watch, over the Plain-of-Two-Forks, across the Ford-of-the-Morrigan into the Rowan-Meadow-of-the-Two-Oxen by the Meeting-of-the-Four-Ways they drove before a dim, dark, heavy mist overtook them… * Continue … Continue reading →

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The House that Fish Built: Chariots at Dawn…

Posted on August 9, 2020 by Sue Vincent

* …King Grim-Gaze the slug-man struck the silver sceptre that was in his hand against the bronze pillar of his couch three times, and by the third stroke, the combatants had let drop their hands to their sides. “I restrain … Continue reading →