Variety has been the spice of my creative life
AFTER 40 years of nearly making a living creatively, writing, singing and painting, and definitely in that order, I fully understand the feast and famine of this precarious lifestyle, but the truth is, we’ve always had enough, and the majority of my four decades at it has definitely been on the feast side, not least because of my three amazing children, Oisin, Culain and Niamh, and now my granddaughters Orlaith and Erin. Rich it is I am. If I had stuck to one thing, I could have been dangerous, although that would have been much too easy, for example when the Sunday Times offered me a job in the early 90s, I turned it down because there was no way I would want to live in London.
In those days I was writing a wildlife column in the ST and earning a relative fortune.
It all came very easily somehow, for example for Devilment one day I pitched three holiday ideas to the travel editor, including one which would have had me following wolf tracks in Chernobyl.
There was no hesitation and she asked simply, ‘Which would you like to do first?’
My most recent foray into the nationals was in The Times two years ago when they used my story about an egg collector from Rochdale who had an apartment in Estonia where he was caught with the eggs of several endangered species.
Fortunately the column you are reading here has appeared in numerous titles for 34 years, so I am still read by countless thousands of people.
I feel comforted by that and your correspondence makes it all worthwhile, and, believe it or not, I still collect every cutting.
I’ve got thousands dating back to 1976 when my first piece appeared in the Liverpool Weekly News, I even remember the heading ‘A kestrel kills in Liverpool’.
I was so excited at seeing my name in print, still am in fairness, just as I am with performing and likewise when I hang one of my paintings on the gallery wall.
It’s a risky business and heart on sleeve time when you step up to the plate and share your passions, but oh the rewards and I don’t mean money, are so worth it.
In many ways I have combined my Holy Trinity of artistic endeavour with family, rugby, food, drink and good friends and it has been an heady cocktail.
Of course, all of these things have been well met in my Laughing Badger Gallery and Cellar Bar, 10 years of unabated shenanigans and malarkey of the highest order, with the Cellar Bar and in particular the Cellar Bar Sessions attracting musicians of the very highest calibre.
We are small but beautifully formed and to kind of seal our place on the circuit, Meredith Moon, the daughter of legendary songwriter Gordon Lightfoot, appeared here as part of her European Tour four weeks ago.
The posters which arrived from Ontario said it all, London, Paris, Brussels, Berlin and Padfield! I’ll take that thank you and watch out for the T-shirts.
Throw into the mix the amazing baking and cooking of my daughter Niamh and latterly the organisation and enthusiasm of my Joanie Lucy Edge and you start to get the picture.
Joanie has managed to attract Sara Beth and Royal South from Nashville to play here in July.
It’s already sold out and not surprising as their latest single this week reached one million uploads.
As I write, Bob Cheevers, who toured in the day with Johnny Cash, is booked in for a November date.
‘I’ve heard a lot of wonderful stuff about your place’, he said.
To get to the point, combining poetry and the rest with the dark arts of a prop forward is no leap of the imagination for me and even though I never got the chance to discuss the work of Paul Gauguin in the front row, I have always had the rare privilege to share my sense of wonder with anyone prepared to listen, so here goes for nothing.
Rather like a butterfly or indeed a bee, which flies from flower to flower, I have been able to surprise friends over the years by changing direction at the drop of a hat in search of a sweeter nectar, not so much fed up of one tack, but rather with the burning desire to experience something more.
Regular readers will recall my desire to be a Seanachi, a traditional Irish storyteller, which once again will see the ultimate melting pot of tales from all aspects of my life, with regular mentions of the late, Oaf, aka Peter Bromhall, my wonderful friend and erstwhile rugby pal, band roadie and travel companion. I can hear Oaf now, asking me what I’m going to do next, never judgemental and always supportive, but tossing in a little personal philosophy as I pass him a bacon butty with a brew, ‘Woody (everything was prefaced with Woody) we’re not here for a long time, we’re here for a good time!’
‘Well Oaf my friend, if you’re listening, we might sell up and have another do so watch this space’.