Categories
Archives
-
-
Recent Posts
- September 2025 Snapshots
- Upcoming dates: Frankenstein
- Getting unstuck
- “Where am I coming from? Where am I going? A fusillade of question marks.” — Ciarán Carson
- Frankenstein coming to life …
- “I grew up believing that I was fundamentally powerless.” — Thom Yorke
- Frankenstein and Tiffany, part deux
- “I want to live, not pose!” — Carole Lombard
- “When I’m performing, that’s the real me.” — Billy Lee Riley
- “If someone spends his life writing the truth without caring for the consequences, he inevitably becomes a political authority in a totalitarian regime.” — Václav Havel
Recent Comments
- sheila on Getting unstuck
- Daniel V. on Getting unstuck
- sheila on That’ll Learn Ya reunites
- joe franco on That’ll Learn Ya reunites
- sheila on “When I’m performing, that’s the real me.” — Billy Lee Riley
- Kristen Westergaard on “When I’m performing, that’s the real me.” — Billy Lee Riley
- sheila on Upcoming dates: Frankenstein
- Frances on Upcoming dates: Frankenstein
- sheila on Upcoming dates: Frankenstein
- sheila on Getting unstuck
- Frances on Upcoming dates: Frankenstein
- Walter Biggins on Getting unstuck
- Amir Lauber on All That Jazz: Remembering and Loving Erzebet Foldi
- sheila on “When I’m performing, that’s the real me.” — Billy Lee Riley
- sheila on “When I’m performing, that’s the real me.” — Billy Lee Riley
- Krsten Westergaard on “When I’m performing, that’s the real me.” — Billy Lee Riley
- sheila on Premiere of Frankenstein official trailer!
- sheila on Premiere of Frankenstein official trailer!
- Sheila Welch on Premiere of Frankenstein official trailer!
- sheila on “I wish I had not been so reserved.” — Joseph Cornell’s final words
-
Tag Archives: W.B. Yeats
Happy (Belated) Birthday, William Butler Yeats
William Butler Yeats was born yesterday, in 1865. Yeats is a great poet and all that, but I grew up pretty much “over” him because he was kind of omnipresent in our household. We were made to memorize his epitaph … Continue reading
Yeats On a Mural
I love every single word of this post, and I’ve read it, oh, five times, just because it pleases me.
Today in history: January 26, 1907
Until I get my words back for real, blogging will continue to be photo-oriented, a Facebook version of my blog. I cannot write right now. I am not myself. But today is an important anniversary and one that has family-connections … Continue reading
Books I bought online in a fugue state on December 29
They are all arriving now, and it feels, already, like visitations from a ghost of the long-distant past. — The letters of Maud Gonne and WB Yeats — Maud Gonne’s autobiography — Shane Leslie’s memoirs — Conor Cruise O’Brien’s memoirs … Continue reading
Posted in Books, James Joyce
Tagged family, Ireland, John Montague, Maud Gonne, Shane Leslie, W.B. Yeats
Leave a comment
Cast a cold eye
… On life, on death Horseman pass by — WB Yeats’s epitaph When we were small children, our dad made us memorize the epitaph in order to get part of our allowance (which was all of 75 cents). So all … Continue reading
Maud Gonne: “The Pilgrim Soul”
Maud Gonne, Irish revolutionary, feminist, radical, and lifelong poetic muse of William Butler Yeats, was born yesterday in 1865. She married John MacBride (after a couple of notorious affairs and illegitimate children). John MacBride was an Irish nationalist who participated … Continue reading
“It is to be a bond of the spirit only.”
Fantastic article about the new Yeats exhibit going on at the National Library in Dublin – which will (pretty please) eventually come to the States, if a library/museum steps up to the plate to host it. (That’s one of the … Continue reading
Posted in writers
Tagged Ireland, Irish poetry, Maud Gonne, W.B. Yeats
Comments Off on “It is to be a bond of the spirit only.”
Happy Birthday, William Butler Yeats
William Butler Yeats was born today, in 1865. Yeats is a great poet and all that, but I grew up pretty much “over” him because he was kind of omnipresent in our household. We were made to memorize his epitaph … Continue reading
Posted in writers
Tagged Camille Paglia, Gerard Manley Hopkins, Ireland, Irish poetry, Maud Gonne, Michael Schmidt, poetry, Seamus Heaney, W.B. Yeats
10 Comments
Today in History: January 28, 1939
William Butler Yeats died. And, of course, Yeats makes me think of my father. My first published piece in The Sewanee Review was about the Yeats-dad continuum. From memory now! And when I hear this poem, in my head – … Continue reading
Posted in On This Day, writers
Tagged Ireland, Irish poetry, Maud Gonne, poetry, W.B. Yeats
2 Comments
National Poetry Month: William Butler Yeats
I wrote about my affection for this poem here – it was just a part of my childhood because of that Clancy Brothers album … I didn’t even know it was Yeats at the time! Of course his later poems … Continue reading