So this week was trying at best...
However, did manage to get through it well enough!
Spent sometime at the pub, Fados, listening to the Irishmen tell their stories...amusing and informative...
After a few hours, was able to imitate the telling quite well, if I do say so myself!
Couldn't dance..back hurt far to much, ah but that is quite a grand excuse isn't it? Truth be told I cannot dance. Oh you'll say that I can, 'til you witness the craziness...lol
Loved the phone call that I recieved the very next day from a now sober and remorseful Irishman inquiring as to his actions the night before...worried that he had offended the world at hand...
I had a choice, tell the truth, or lie and grant him a weeks worth of aoplogetic, poetic prose that he'd be ever so inclined to tell the 90 or so persons that he had spoken to...
I told the truth
But only because he sounded so sad...
The Irish are great, they tell you to go to hell and do it in such a way that you can't wait to go...
*Enough of that hey?*
The writing came easily this week, I wrote late at night- windows open, cool breezes, lots of rain to contend with.
Loved the stormy weather, took the jeep and bah haaaad through the flood waters...
Freedom as such warms the soul, reminds us all that we are but a product of our child's heart beating beneath the culluded adult one that we all possess.
So a little fun, alot of jogging and a wee bit of the sauna to inspire the words that would fall from Ansten McEwans lips into his grand love.
And how he loves her truly...
Michael McEwan enters the sequel a much more deep and complex character. Previously, you would have found him a tad bit dry, pompous, and in stark honesty, stuck completely in the past, a past that he seemingly cannot pry himself from. To eradicate this protion of his life, he feels, is to allow the modern way of life to encroach into this one.
This is not something that he will tolerate...not in this lifetime where women are now both decision makers and bread winners...
No, he is of the Dire, and men of the Dire are unilateral decisive forces to be reckoned with, admired and feared...
His dilima becomes his private fear
How is it that he comes to love his cousins wife Sawyer, while married to Ansten McEwans mistress Kelly Sunday?
Ansten possesses both his future and his past...has done so with ease...
But it is surpisingly not Ansten who stands in his way, it is the Pater Nostras himself. One of the most formidable men that the Dire in its entirety has come to know...
And Penington will not have dissention, even from a distant relative.
For Sawyers part, Michael is a difficult man to endure. He bears an uncanny resemblance to Grant McEwan, her lost love...
Yet she is a leader in her own right...
Do you see the paradox faced by Michael? To love such a woman, to care so deeply for another person who represents all that you abhore?
All that you desire to attain in this that you reside with such unabashed ambition?
To surrender to his raw emotions means to betray...
And within the Dire, you do not betray...
You do not betray and survive the pack...
The truth for me this week:
"aut viam inveniam aut faciam"
I will either find a way or make one
For those of you closely following the subtext, I raise my glass to you, its an increasing desire to see it to its fruition in the book Prevenient Grace.
The first reviews coming forth are encouraging, and for this I am grateful.
Its probably my favorite tell...
Well have a wonderful week, live your life with passion.
Love mightily
Laugh
Inspire
Refuse to give in to the dark veil of "can't"
Until next week,
From my hand to yours...
Sawyer
Saint Andrews
