I Needed To Do A Presentation About Why Studying Memory Politics Is Important, And This Escalated Quickly.

Another current wip

The Wren Prince III - The Druid's Crannog

An illustration many I'm sure can relate to

The hills, they are hollow

(The hill in the background is actually a rath)

Co. Galway, 2024

Celtober 2023 Days 4, 5 and 6: Murder, Judgement and Mound

Corrgend, the king of the Fir Bolg, caught Áed, son of Eochaid Dagda, in the act of sleeping with Corrgend’s wife, and so he killed Áed in a fit of rage and jealousy. The grieving father sentenced Corrgend to carry Áed’s decomposing body tied to his back until he finds a perfect place for the mound that he should build for his victim. After that, Corrgend was finally executed and buried elsewhere.

One of these Tuatha Dé Danann lesbian lovers is trans btw

I’m reblogging this on my main blog because it broke my heart. Exactly what happened to me when I was 5, only I drew a blue flower (and was expelled from pre-school art class for being ‘unable to learn to draw’).

This did not deter me from drawing though. But it did deter my parents from allowing me to attend any extracurricular art classes that I begged for for years to come.

Once a little boy went to school. One morning The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. He liked to make all kinds; Lions and tigers, Chickens and cows, Trains and boats; And he took out his box of crayons And began to draw.

But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make flowers.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make beautiful ones With his pink and orange and blue crayons. But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And it was red, with a green stem. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”

The little boy looked at his teacher’s flower Then he looked at his own flower. He liked his flower better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just turned his paper over, And made a flower like the teacher’s. It was red, with a green stem.

On another day The teacher said: “Today we are going to make something with clay.” “Good!” thought the little boy; He liked clay. He could make all kinds of things with clay: Snakes and snowmen, Elephants and mice, Cars and trucks And he began to pull and pinch His ball of clay.

But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make a dish.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make dishes. And he began to make some That were all shapes and sizes.

But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And she showed everyone how to make One deep dish. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”

The little boy looked at the teacher’s dish; Then he looked at his own. He liked his better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just rolled his clay into a big ball again And made a dish like the teacher’s. It was a deep dish.

And pretty soon The little boy learned to wait, And to watch And to make things just like the teacher. And pretty soon He didn’t make things of his own anymore.

Then it happened That the little boy and his family Moved to another house, In another city, And the little boy Had to go to another school.

The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. And he waited for the teacher To tell what to do. But the teacher didn’t say anything. She just walked around the room.

When she came to the little boy She asked, “Don’t you want to make a picture?” “Yes,” said the little boy. “What are we going to make?” “I don’t know until you make it,” said the teacher. “How shall I make it?” asked the little boy. “Why, anyway you like,” said the teacher. “And any color?” asked the little boy. “Any color,” said the teacher. And he began to make a red flower with a green stem.

~Helen Buckley, The Little Boy

Manannán mac Lir getting ready to remove someone's head.

Mermay day 11: Guard

This mermaid isn't prone to sharing her food or, maybe, her love interest. Whatever she needs the drowned prince for.