Have you ever had a place strike at the core of you, even though you've never been there? It's a sort of remembering....like something calling to you that you don't really understand yet. Like fog rolling off of hills as the landscape reveals itself, or a walk through a wood so covered in moss and foliage you feel like you're the only soul that's been in this ancient magic place for eons, and yet you're meant to be there.
So,there's really no choice. It's fate, I'm sure. At some point, I have to find out what will happen when I set foot in the land of the Tuatha de danann - a place with a history so rich and full every time I read about it or see a photo my spirit ....well. I could say something flowery here like my spirit soars, but really what it does is kick my ass. It's furious with me, and yet it understands, that I haven't made it there yet. Sometimes your life gets in your own way.
Still though, my ancestors came from there, from what I hear, though I know precious little. I can tell you this, I know when I see pictures that I've seen it before, and not through some photograph or story. When I read stories, real or not, I swear I can hear the lilt and cadence, and it feels familiar...it's as if I miss the humor and wit and camaraderie of a people I've not met, yet, this life. So whether you send me or not, it will be very curious to see what happens when I do make the journey happen.
I'm an artist and I like to write, and love myth and history, and a nature lover - so being a soul that's sensitive to colors and wild places that have a rebel energy about them is like coming home. I just know that somewhere in Ireland, there is a cottage waiting for me. It's down some little road, off to the side - its small and has a riot of flowers around it.
Will you let me search for it, in the wild west of Ireland?