Spring 2016


George's Moonlight


One wet warm misty night, I was walking quiet corners of my old city. In cul de sac of the Georgian era, I came across a bush of thousands tiny yellow flowers, facing sideways a lit window, spreading the scent into the night, of Lilac mix Lily of the Valley. As I leaned closer to breathe in the divine into my tired smoker's lungs, I noticed a dozen snails inside the flower bush. I was mesmerised. I watched the snails slowly move across wet branches, into my neon subconscious. Imagine the life They are living... Astounding.

I also saw the dog, sleepwalking into a garden chair.

'Same stars we share' I giggled to myself. Same Stars...



(...from the joys of a new game, called Postcrossing. For those, who love writing postcards: https://www.postcrossing.com/)

Unreal things have a reality of their own.

-Wallace Stevens



Depth of Perception


On top of St Patrick's Hill, under full glory of the moon this time,

I keep contemplating that 'never finished' concept of Japanese nation.

I tell Sam, my friend, that I happened to read once someone saying that we are 'never finished article'.

'And why would you want to be otherwise?' I hear Sam's young Soul giggle as he averts his eyes. 

I hum okay okay.


For a while

we gaze at the sky

for the special star, called Vega


Suddenly Sam moves, takes out a little notebook and scribbles something.

I smile, watching him write without light.

Then he tiers the page off and puts all back into his pocket.

'I am looking forward to seeing you grow older from book to book' he says.


Vega falls 

as we walk down the hill

144 steps

conscious of one million dollar view of the city


We part on the road which hugs the river Lee,

Sam pulls out from the pocket twice folded note and hands it to me. 





the book falls open

and the truth happens



Every day is a journey, and the journey itself is home.

-Matsuo Basho




I am off to write my first book.



I am not afraid to tell you, 'I love you'. Your mind might say, 'How can you love me when you don't even know me?' I don't need to know you. I don't need to justify my love. I love you because this is my pleasure.


-Don Miguel Ruiz


Rise of Expected Surprise


Under full glory of the sun, sipping earl grey,

we discuss joys of first buds of the spuds

and tomatoes jungle on each window board

                                                                          in the house of my friend, garden lover


His wife says: flower beds under the kitchen window look like two little graves

I laugh full lungs and for a while, again, and no one interrupts me


A confident crow tours around

most likely looking for a dessert, as she just had pizza I've seen

My phone rings and familiar voice at the other end speaks:

                                                                                                'Sugar, you are good to go.'

I open my mouth and in this position I freeze

I watch the Past

                               flying astray with 99 red balloons...


In the meanwhile:

two human love birds kiss

waitress girl brings us more tea

a confident crow stops to watch

                                                       this slightly strange scene




Japanese have the concept in their traditional culture: 'Nothing is perfect, nothing is finished, and nothing lasts.' This concept is drawn from Japanese aesthetics and Japanese world view centered on the acceptance of transience and imperfection.

But every imperfection is a perfection of my,

it would be hard to convince me to believe different. However, with parts two and three I fully agree. Only at first sight it may look as paradox.  

No story is ever finished. It might be that it has stopped being recorded, or stopped being read, but that's about it.

I won't bother to mention that nothing lasts...


Education isn't something you can finish.

-Isaak Asinov


Agneta Junevičiūtė, 2016

Agneta Junevičiūtė, 2016


Satellite Hunger and Remote Control


Pythagoras was a mighty man with vision of Saturn planet, if you know what I mean. He was interested in mathematics, philosophy, astronomy and music. He is often referred to as the first pure mathematician.

He said: 'All things are numbers. Mathematics is a basis for everything, and geometry is the highest form of mathematical studies. The physical world can be understood through mathematics. Numbers have personalities, characteristics, strengths and weaknesses.'

He believed numbers are living realities. I believe same about Words.


Pythagoras invented philosophy of numerology and developed an understanding of music and harmony, which was synthesized into four principle parts:


Arithmetics = number in itself

Geometry = number in space

Music = number in time

Astronomy = number in space and time


The unity of Pythagorean number theory led to eventual development of the diatonic scale on which Western classical music is based.

It is believed that the sounds of the diatonic scale - Do Re Mi Fa So La Ti(Si) Do - came from heaven.


Do - Dominus (God the Creator)

Re - Regina Caeli (Queen of Heaven or the Moon)

Mi - Micro cosmos (the Earth)

Fa - Fatus (Destiny of the Planets)

So - Sol (the Sun)

La - Voie Lacte (the Milky Way)

Ti or Si - Siderial (the Stars, Galaxies, or Cosmos)

Do - God I Dominus (God in Humanity)


The word 'acoustic' is derived from the Pythagorean schools and means the science of sound or, simply, that what you hear...


Here you go. Your geek-out for the day. You're welcome.


The highest form of ignorance is when you reject something you don't know anything about.

-Wayne Dyer



One Way or Another


'What is your dream?' I ask Spencer while packing snacks for her to enjoy on a bus.

'I don't have one' she says, grabs the goody bag from my hands and disappears from the kitchen. 

'Really? How come?' I follow her into the living room.

'Well, when you are happy, you don't need one' she replies.



'Can you be truly happy without having something to dream about?' I ask Madam later that day. She says maybe you can. 'That is an impulsive answer, please think again' I ask.

Dreams come from a different realm. When we dream, we tune into higher frequency. We uplift ourselves to a place of freedom, magic and all things possible. Happiness comes from the same higher frequency, and so both are tight close together, I believe. I also believe that dreams gives us direction, drive, and sense of purpose. If you have no purpose, what is your life about, then? 'No purpose' and 'happy' doesn't go hand in hand, in my eyes. But then again, I am the Queen of the Dreamland. 


'I am hoping to find a wealthy husband who'll buy me a farm. I would live there looking after the animals', Spencer laughs as she closes her rucksack, ready to go.

'Here you are. Without 'a wealthy husband' part, sounds like a dream with a purpose', I hug goodbye this beautiful girl.


Wise people say that things are created twice: first in your mind, then in your life. Dreams come true, if you believe they can.

I think we all have a dream. The matter is do we trust it.


I didn't know how unhappy I was until the day I realised

                                                                                                I have a dream...


One day Alice came to a fork in the road and saw a Cheshire cat in a tree.

'Which road do I take?' she asked.

'Where do you want to go?' was his response.

 'I don't know', Alice answered.

'Then', said the cat, 'it doesn't matter.'

-Carroll Lewis, 'Alice in Wonderland'




Isn't it funny

how day by day

nothing changes

but when you look back

everything is different...


-C.S. Lewis


Observations Broken Into Light


If you to look more closely, you'll discover every moment to be special. The 'special' part unravels when you 'stop the time', which is nothing but a full focus on 'here and now'. Then you happen to see, I mean, really see what is, and going on around you. Look closer at shapes, colours and textures of objects surrounding you. Think for a second about how they were made and what purpose do they mean to serve. Do they mean to provide you with comfort, knowledge or beauty? Look at things from their purpose point of view and feel your own presence relating to them. Feel you are the base in a picture that your eyes comfortably see, without stretching the spectrum of vision too much. Stay within its means. Feel every single thing is here to serve you. Press on Pause. Enjoy mindful being

I am silently contemplating a big writing project, again. The project already invented and cultivated to a literary perfection by one of my friends on the other side of the world. Since very first time I've seen the project, it made strange affect on me. My senses started to circle around random buildings, details, people, but with no particular place in mind. Three years later, I think I might know the name of this promised land

And here it is my Now: a late evening with wooly blanket (this spring still very cold) and a cup of tea; I started to study this tenacious idea more closely. I analyse its concept and texts, subtexts and riddles I try to grasp in sensations. I put myself into the author's shoes and I walk her project, nurtured for four years, born into one beautiful piece - abstract, historical tale about... no, I won't

So that's just me.

My friend, who is visiting all the way down from the West, is breathing peacefully during the early stage sleep. I just told her a story from the seven pictures that hang on the wall at an unusual height. Once I place my head on the pillow - I'm on my favourite beach on Achill Island. The beach is three miles long, with sandy dunes and rosy stones, with water shimmering in several shades of blue. And people who live here, about 200 locals altogether. I've been told that some of them have never left the island. Achill is not of this world

I hope the story continues in my friend's dream, with attached mild breeze that carries the scent of iris flowers. I hope she walks the white stone hill to gather fluffy mint. I hope she notices the pilgrim's path stretching all the way down, to the edge of a cliff. I hope she lucid dreams as the sea follows the moon... With two fingers imitating human legs, I walk myself the beach in photographs

Music is streaming barely I hear. Tranquil sounds sprinkle reassurance, good wishes and blessings upon me. Candle is burning and the incense is spreading its spell. My present shifts into a special moment: warm, cosy and true. I put the project aside. I take away the book that my friend is sleeping on. And I lay still, lazily observing her, myself and the room. I focus fully on 'here and now' and I realise the abundance I am in. I chant 'I AM' in my mind (trying out the power of Words) and the moment intensifies. I feel connected to it all. I feel connected to the beauty that is Life. There is nowhere else I wish to be right now. I soak in perfect calmness. I am dotted line

I know this moment will come back to me as déjà vu when I'll long for a memory of still abundant life. Or. Please God, my first steps into mature writing...


The easiest way to make your blessings count is to count your blessings.


Gintarė, 2015

Gintarė, 2015



Love is the greatest gift that we receive, and the art of living is the greatest art. How do you master the art of living? Practice makes the master. It's not about learning; it's about taking action and practicing your art. As an artist, if you practice love, and you keep practicing and practicing, the moment comes when everything you do is an expression of your love. How will you know when you have mastered love? When the story you tell yourself is an ongoing romance. 


-Don Miguel Ruiz


Unframed Time


I think about Words and paint owls

I exist comfortably in one bedroom present, thirteen rough drafts burning on the floor, all too light

Boredom blesses disinterested action

Perfect peace, plenty, cunning trust in the world


But the bells ring

and the sky blue new watch ticks by my soft footsteps... once upon early springtime


In a baggy jumper and Ugg boots I wait by the Starbucks, for the man with newspapers. I rhyme syllables watching cafe's neon lights; gentle breeze touches my hair and Crawford's daffodils... The man yet not here

I slip into the gallery to look at Madonnas forever alive on the walls


As I walk the old oak floors there, I think:

Would I be much different if I only spoke English profound and live on the orchid farm? Would my words grow more meaningful in silence, life - more content?

I call these thoughts 'from the spiral staircase'


Incredible lightness today's air contains...


I come back home later than I have promised the owls, they flew away without saying goodbye

I read the Examiner so, and have a wee chat with my mother, before the empty canvas calls me back

for white flowers...


I'm not crazy. My reality is just different from yours.

-Cheshire Cat, 'Alice in Wonderland'




Life is amazing. And then it's awful. And then it's amazing again. And in between the amazing and the awful it's ordinary and mundane and routine. Breathe in the amazing, hold on through the awful, and relax and exhale during the ordinary. That's just living heartbreaking, soul-healing, amazing, awful, ordinary life. And it's breathtakingly beautiful.


-L.R. Knost


Passage to Salvation


I should like to mention that there is a feeling such as heightened gratitude, enabling us to reach and gently shake the hand of God himself.

Allow me to remind that by ourselves alone we never do big things in life - it is always teamwork, have you noticed that? Permit me to suggest that we give special thanks to those who help us to get back on the road, for legacy to be continuing carry on. I stress the privilege to understand that you have one (Realisation equivalent to the highest intellectual rapture) And, the willingness to serve others I also wish to point out - another 'What a thing!' which happens during our growth. 

Allow me to remind about the necessity to kneel, to ask and pray, beside it all. Without a doubt I say that mercy is a big deal, even nowadays...


Today I became a Public Servant, employed with An Post. 

'How did you get that job?', some wonder with an open envy.

'How? I worked for it!', delighted with myself I smile.


We can have it all, I believe. Just every matter has its own hidden price. The bigger the matter, the higher the price of course. 

Once it's paid, the matter is yours for the taking.


However, it is all about gratitude in a first place...


My goal is to build a life I don't need a vocation from.

-Rob Hill Sr.



'You know what is false; yet you don't know what is true'


We use thousands of words every day to convey information - to express thoughts and feelings to those around us. Most often, we think very little about the quality of the words we choose to speak, or the tone or pace we choose to deliver them. We rarely make a conscious connection between the thoughts we have and and the words we use to express those thoughts. We simply speak as the inclination takes us...

Yet words are more than simple tools of communication. Words anchor our emotional state. They transmit their own specific prodigy, and have the power to touch the primal areas at the core of our being - are you aware of this? They help us to reach deep levels of consciousness and make a direct connection with a God force. Words are designed to communicate meaning. However, often words are used to build a firm wall to hide our true essence...


The Universal Law cites that 'thought creates reality.'

Thought is build from words.


Pythagoras taught the development of wisdom is life's main goal. He believed that wisdom is the force that is gathered from within, while intellect is that which is acquired from without. Through the act of learning the student is awakened, and through knowledge there is purification. Later the student gains wisdom, which transcends into perfection.

Wisdom was believed to be a dimension of consciousness through which enlighten Souls could perceive the purity of the word. The word is the body of the idea, and the idea is the soul of the word, constantly unfolding and enfolding within its own force, Pythagoras taught.

Ancient teachings say that certain words act like magnets, whether they are blessings, invocations, statements to evoke courage and power, or to relieve sickness. The Greek teachers believed that the Word, or Logos, was the energy of cosmic reason. God resonated through the Logos as a self-revealed thought, and when this force entered the disciplined expression of the student, cosmic reason became crystallised within the spoken word and so the very name of God had been uttered. 

The 'disciplined expression' I'll explain through an interesting example:

Pythagorean school students were not allowed to speak for the first five years of their education. Silence was considered to be an inner space of preparation before wisdom could be sounded, while listening made one observant and humble to nature. Through this experience students were taught to dispel casual methods of speech and focus their minds away from superfluous mind-chatter towards inner content, and then to specify the reason for expression. After such an education the students were reputed to speak from their essence.


(students for life so we are)


(... in collaboration with Steward Pierce.)



After all I owe you silence.


If words come out of the heart

They will enter the heart.

But if they come from the tongue

They will not pass beyond the ears.

-Al Suhrawandi



Fatal Loner


As the sun sets down, this farmhouse cafe adopts the most comforting light. Sipping homemade mocha, listening to soothing French sounds, and witnessing the peace that falls, I continue to read an article in 'Weekend' about Marilyn Monroe. Marilyn was 50 years and one month older than me. We were born on the same day.

I sit by the long white table beside the window. I observe the city on the other hand, this boisterous place I have fallen for. With more artificial colours and loud urban sounds, but at the same time well balanced... sweet just as it is sour. 

Walking past the cafe's window, people looking brighter, because of the crisp in the air today. Some of them look dreamy, some a little worried, some gently joyful, some stroll through an anxious hurry, I can tell. I could come up with many different stories just by watching them. Or, I could go outside and say 'Hello' to an actual one. High possibility - the rest will be told. With pleasure and delight for an ear. 

I wonder lately, about the good old saying that 'in bigger cities people are lonelier'. I think it might be the truth. Most people I encounter on my way here - talk miles, and an extra few. They talk about their greatness (most often in slightly indirect manner, but not me to fool) and then, I sense, wait for affirmation. I have no problem with applauding them, and so I do. I gratify theirs, and my own kindest Souls. 

Sometimes people are deceptively funny. Sometimes they show their weaknesses, rarely though. I don't prioritise either scenario; I just listen and try to understand that urge they have, to talk. They ask you nothing. Except perhaps for 'What do you do?, I still find this strange. Madam says I fall for so called 'empathy traps': because I listen to all, I attract people in desperate need for empathy, and, time from time, slight sociopaths. But most people, I feel, are simply lonely. And so they try hard to connect by impressing you - is that the only way they know? I wish I could remind them that active listening is a skill. And like all skills in use, it has a time limit. If there is no neutralising energy besides, not much respect for sharing being offered, I quickly overflow. The degree of separation in this case? Too high, there is no way we will connect. So what's the point of our conversation?


There was a time when I set healthy standards to my relationships. They rise higher, naturally, as I progress. It works straightforward nowadays: if you are not interested in me, I am not interested in you. I learned to respect mySelf and the Time. 'Not everyone is on the way for you', I learned. 

I do categorise relationships. Nothing too complicated, as I said, only into three groups. They are: Kindness, Knowledge, and Fun - enough to simplify decision-making. If it comes to that. A person, to be invited into my life, must fall into at least one of these. The other two will add up as we go further, I'm sure. 


'I believe it might be the luminous sadness which attracts us to those less fortunate', contemplates Madam.

I agree. Cloud nine, but an awkward one...


The sun sets down in this farmhouse cafe which still keeps it's lights off. Just before candles... Just like at home... Lovely.

Come visit 'Siopa Gan Ainm' at 3, Corn Market Street, Cork.


You are not free until you have No Need to impress anybody. 


Brian Keane, 2015

Brian Keane, 2015