Julia Kent and Caoimhín Ó Raghallaigh TDC March 1ST

this instrument brings me wonder when ever it is in my hands the tune it plays me is a wonder still, the quite voice, huge, in the sweltering sahara heat of the TCD. and out played a captivating melody entwined in the inner ear.

There is a quietness to Caoimhín Ó Raghallaigh echoed by the gigantic embrace of music he produces. closed eyes hes part of the music it self.

He said he’d play “a few songs that I made up” what an inspiring mind of creation that he is then.   

Juila Kent lost in translation cello, it was taking a tour of the skies, or airport lockers, borrowed pro musica saves the day, and with out the player there is no music without the cello there well you catch my drift the yin to the yang.

And what a perfectly yin to the yang she plays music with her every being and thats right down to her toes and changing beats button toes and tattooed ankle. god it was gorgeous. shes some talent!

Never a happier ticket to purchase. Nothing will ever beat a live gig.

And then they played together a first! a first! and did it come together it was like some one making ya tea in the morning and telling ya you’d won the lotto while you were dreaming of sliding down a rainbow. 

When it is magic its fucken magic.

The darkness and heat had a lullaby effect, or a sedative wan as a man fell asleep beside me like a horse, he was stood up snoring with his chin on his chest hand still holding a pint! and I quite wish I had a recording of it along with Caoimhín Ó Raghallaigh and juila kent some sounds ya just don’t put together, I got a fit of the giggles.

It had a holy kinda captivating effect, been in there all dimmed lights, and this beautiful music. that the fit of the giggles I tried to suppress. but saved by the applause i was,the man woke up like a shot at the loudness the crowd appreciated! jesus I appreciated! what a wonderful thing it was.

 when its magic its unforgettable.

I wore some cloud shoes home 

Thanks Fractured air! 


Thanks Juila kent 


Thanks  Caoimhín Ó Raghallaigh


And heres a sneaky recording of both Juila and Caoimhin together quality isn’t great but still https://soundcloud.com/miniaturezebra/two-of-them-together 

just as there is no sense in giving a cat a bath.

everyday its like someones trying to give a cat a bath inside my mind
plenty of cul de sac notions
the thoughts waltz across
and I am stuck rigid
tramploine heart
stomach contents eject
the new day is nearing
my eyes read the blacks to greys to new days
open wide counting down to dawn
imsoniac daily races
sleepy sleepy
ready steady awake
you see the day and night as one endless tormenter
lurking in shadows, away from the light
the wind challenges
the rain washes away all life
you can not mark out the sea
but you try to stop the tides destruction
you are an admirer with a romantic view of the ocean

The rat buried his way into the fridge?

Opened the fridge and theres a rat trap in it! The rat, get this buried through the wall, and you know the little drain thing at the back of the fridge, well yeah, tore his way through it, and into the fridge. I really couldn’t believe it! mental eh! and totaly gross. Apparently place is full of giant rats because of the storms. Kinda made me think of that boat floating around the sea on its own its meant to be full of rats you hear about that? http://www.irishtimes.com/news/environment/rat-infested-russian-ghost-ship-drifts-towards-irish-coast-1.1666881 russia someone would want, to hose down that place.Reckon its a russian rat. The rat basicly he couldn’t deal with the somali pirate buzz, that the other rats were on, got on a diggy and hi tailed it outa there, then ended up in our fridge. Poor rat thought he’d end up crusing to austraila, but now hes in connemara. Mom reckons the cat ate him though, as he hasn’t been seen in the fridge since.

rat up date!

 Rat is still alive and well anyway. The trap was sprung today and he had eaten the butter, ah sure these rats they are clever I suggested putting the cat in the fridge, but it was taken quite badly, But still I think my suggestion was a good one, maybe they will come around. The cat bites, he wouldn’t mind sitting in the fridge over night, strangely the fridge is still on, for some reason. To give the rat a bit of a chill? so he won’t like coming?.  Who knows. You what might work in lobster pots, there’s a system so the lobsters can go in the hole, and they can’t get out again, once they are in there, there stuck. if I was to fix some kinda stabbing device on Mr Rateo’s hole. he might forget his, tom crean ,discovery, fridge artic explorey mission…… These plans are useless hes in now, hes a housemate, going have to share the house with him, might as well give him a bedroom. he can keep my mother company.

Rat update!

my dad actually did try and put the cat in the fridge, the cat didn’t like this and legged it out the door.

cover all areas and try all the solutions, but have a bit of craic at it, while your at it. 

wouldn’t fecking get it anywhere else, sure its magical if you look at it side ways.


summer winter spring? Riots in the rain

I thought I’d carry out an evaluation on the ould weather situation,

I found the written language of the summer earlier and had a read remember the heat lads just about just about.

the last of the winter is gone, well its not, but sure its a new season to complain about, spring got sprung here the place is watery and lively kayaks down the main streets people swimming down oliver plunkett street, lively enough to stop students gyrating around with nothing on, on the thursday sure they’d be like a under water ballet group up to there hips in the lee filth,spring tides and wind, its very windy people are getting swept of there feet and not in a romancing way either. old ladys getting tugged along in dingys crying over spilled holy water. sure theres no point crying over spilled holy water. they should make it a new saying that one. I’ll buck the trend and hope for the best on it. Enda Kenny the primesinister of Ireland is making no more promises, after all he couldn’t keep the last ones. Poverty breeds inventive schemes, the new shopping channel product, tit towel, which is the new breast implant invention, by moi, which is basically a tea towel for €14:99  you stuff inside jumper. I blagged someone in to buying it for a pint. not a big seller. my mini hot water bottle, ear warmer and nose warmer device, which comprised, of two mini hot water bottles stuck to a hairband, with some kinda antenna device hung over your nose with a bit of fluff to warm your nose. no sales as of yet. So next a healer I want to be a healer,and do I be wondering about setting up a business of bating people with sticks, yeah I fecking do! way better than my pope mobile shark aquarium scheme to make money, Sorting out the shark was elusive.And I am not entirely sure I would get a loan to transform a bullet proof pope shifter to an aquarium anyway. in form from the weather the window licking got done a lot, looking at drippy people at the bus stop. umbrellas inside out and dangling from a tree, flapping about like a caught bird. Rain drips painting the window in between its like fireworks on the window, and I sit inside howling and singing and in general I am vocal about the entrapment of the sphere of inside I don’t like it at all, annoying my housemates but sure I have to bounce sound around and sure you don’t have to say anything important. and you continue, to look and see all about you and that is sporadic meandering thoughts going down the cul de sac, not all paths lead to the place you want to be, and not all thoughts are the right ones. over thinkers anonymous. DON’T GO CHASING WATERFALLS! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8WEtxJ4-sh4 Lads it could be worse, could be trying to chasing something made to run.

Tags: life


Dear Len
Hows the american fashion doing?, like not the hollywood style, the normal every day jo’s fashion? like I was thinking is there ever, these really local trends, over here some people go around in groups of neon adidas tracksuits not just the top but the bottom, full day glo lunatics,…

New gaff is it?

In the event of a flood you press the emergency shark button,

it releases the sharks, then everyone gets eaten.

The floods subside, and you’ve some lovely new gaffs to pick from

the other plan is too wishy washy

you could kill people with huge amounts of hippo shite.

but whos’s going to clean that up when the floods go?

thats right no one.

So you’ll be stuck with hippos and the shite

Sharks its the only way.

zonked in the brain scale, view finder for the eyeballs

Garden gnome man mystery of the hat not pulled around the earlobes city hall wandering home, Round bread loaf, empty four packet of druids behind fas,
 Princess hairband and picked mushroom on tree stump park land.

Looking and looking and looking and looking and brain malfunction, cart out the notions into a wonderment of footpath cracks and carried away with fragments, we all crack the same way.

Reduced to, the reduced fruit nourishment, blueberries out the eyeballs fill up on vitamins throw the middle finger to the masses. 

And carry forward john wayne in the wild west style.The only way up is up, up out of the cloud cover and bat the eyelids to the world.

The shoes became a swimming pool, the feet learned to swim, the road was wandered and wandered. They said there prayers and got holy, and as with all good feet friends they came to there end.

Into the crowd filled odious beast town to partake in the cash dollars transaction.

I have drew pictures and argued with lines, the boss got bet the pictures won the war, till we met again pencil, paper. I am the master and commander of this ship, we will go forward on the path to the future, your coming with me whether you like it or not.

6000 million missions and we carry our mistakes in our pocket to spy on and not make again.

Forward forward forward obstacle’s can hider my bolix.

you with your lawnmower persuasion,

closed peepers….


dreams of being the pages of a book…

I read in with my open eyes

Its hard been the only living dinosaur

Forked out the road in private bus

gun power mills ballincolig

to colorful canape

Magicians at there craft

films watched

snug as a bug

it was upside down

buckfast is some crazy thing mixed with the 80 glasses of wine we all had

travel sickness trampoline behavior

a tornado of drunks.

Left to my own devices to get lost in the imagination of my homeland

I spent the last while hanging with my friends going to gigs drinking silly amounts, been a general hangover, and it was mighty craic. I got to go to some magic gigs with crazy bands that used the seats in bradleys as a trampoline, epic tuesday night antics boozed up and bold, in to the armpit lane to drink on, till the bells struck half two, out we were kicked into the night to find mischief of our own creation.

To SWANS ear spliting magic ear plugs and shattering glasses turn it up? it was the loudest it could be in to outer space was the only place left for it to go.Don’t ever slate it after a good gig it’ll make you feel queasy and weak.

Sat able bodied in the hospital with the casulty security guarded place the mercy no mercy. There was 3 in total with the injurys to the feet foot leg people. Casts and crutchs became a commen place thing as august came into play. 2 silly sober falls and one drunken hug fall. The universe will slow ya down for good reason.

Preparing for the exciting haul ass back to the education sphere learn things for the future so the dole can kiss my ass make my own way in this life through the medium of cups and plates and arht or art as its commenly known. collecting samples of sound from the hens and the sea to figure out notions caught up inside my brain, to be pulled out when there will be one of those computer devices, made by the computer wiz kid at my desposal. What does this button do? Conquer the world?! Sound!

Up in the shittylink to the home place to work on the house 3 days of breaking and covered in dust to be dupped by the faires. get this madness back in the day 200 years or so ago they built the gaffs on streams flowing south so that the faires could not come in the house, the back door and the front door were in line so that if they so desired the faries could pass freely through when the doors were left open.

Well sound out faries they have made me now have to kango hammer 6 inches into the floors in the old house to stop the rising damp. Ah well kango hammering is fun the destruction has been a mighty task got me one muscle. Its a mighty muscle it’ll be gone tomorrow most likely. 

I spent half a day washing the priests cloths yes the priests cloths appartly they are from nana when there was like masses in the house, not sure how many fucken masses there was in the bloody house but theres about 65 million white sheets and table cloths and other fecking things in the place. I won’t be having mass in the gaff.

I have enough holy gods in the gaff watching my every move there well creepy and my gawd if there isn’t enough bottles of holy water I could take a bath in the stuff its unnerving. I have been chatting away to them asking them for help with the work and they just stare back at me judging, the faces of judgement, how did they master that when they were making them?.

 if god knows all the sins I have he’ll be causing me to have to do more work for the sins, sound out I will be a reformed woman after it all.

 I spend half the day looking out at the rain cleaning and breaking and cleaning, drinking tae and eating ham sambos, shooing out hens, screaming at jack the russell lunatic dog, to leave the chickens alone not that I think he will eat them but hes fond of jumping at them the fucken little hairy bastard.

 My neighbour comes in every now and again, hes less loud now with the hearing aid but he comes in picks up the hammer and tells me hes just going to bulldoze the wall that doesn’t need any work, and he knows it too, the prick. He winks to god knows who thats how you know hes lying, he winks, well you know hes lying anyway because thats what he does.

Dad pretends to talk to him but he just moves his mouth saying invisable words, to say that his hearing aid is not working. he knows dad is messing. its pretty fucken funny.

my neighbours brother goes around with his epic comb over, his bailing twine rope belt,  his shirt tied up around his chest, his under pants up to his belly button, its his summer fashion as it seems. Hes in love with the german woman back the road, who so happens to have stolen my mothers cat (the cat is a bit of a fucker anyway he bites) the german woman most likely lets him in the house, which he loves.

My mother does not allow cats in the house or dogs or any form of animal, other than the four goldfish who turn there water green pretty quickly “they shit and eat and thats it”

I go fishing with my dad most days and sometimes the fish aren’t fond of getting caught, and other days like to day they jump on to the rod. My dad is like a kid massive smile on his face, he’ll keep fishing if they keep biting and I tell him to stop as we’ve no need for all thats caught. The dolphins kept the makral from us today they were magic jumping high out of the sea, they’ll be full and happy tonight as are the seagulls who have never been so plentyful.

I am sure there is endless more stories from which I could go on all day in my verbose nature.

I have had a wonderful summer it has had its lows but epic highs to see me through the exciting winter adventures ahead.

Noise making, publishing, Adventures into the creative sphere.

For a number of weeks I have been adventuring into the notion’s of sound with the very talented Roisin Foley, Claire Guerin, and Irene Murphy.

For me this exploration is away to conquer the view I have of soundscape to pull in and express the sounds in my everyday waking. To be able to gel together within a collabration and invite in the everyday noises of the city scape, be that the clipclop horse shoe noises of high heels on tarmac, conversations of passersby, buses, cars catching on footpaths and crunching onto the road again.

I have always had the view that the noises we make, the fall of our feet on ground, coming down the stairs thuds,the way we cough, even the way we knock on a door, is in essence a part of our vast way of expression.

It is a wonder to me how many of the things we hear in our everyday life becomes part of our language. How does this affect the way we speak we make music the very tones expelled from us?.

In watching a program On channel 4 “When Bjork Met Attenborough”  David attenbrough stated
“Actually the human larynx is capable of so much more variety of sound than is required for language.

“That to a biologist would mean that there was a function of the human voice, which preceded language. So that it’s actually singing is more fundamental to us than speaking.” 

Not only did it make me love david attenbrough even more it made me ponder and wonder to the latest bells on the tick tock.

The sounds I grew up listening too were the crash of the waves, the impressively loud clock on my mothers wall, the dogs bark, the rooster crow incessantly I have wishes for him to be in the pot. the wails of donkeys, sheep bleating. and the rain tapping on the windows and the howls of the wind whirling around the house. countryside

Mostly natural noises with very little interference from the man made world http://www.ifi.ie/film/silence/ this film is quite brilliant here is the trailer https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_ezydfR4JM0

There is something to be said about Pat collins film but it is an odd one too sum up, the very notion of silence is foreign to me and so very arduous for me to fathom. It is another ponder in a life time of ponders.

To now explore the world I live in now the city streets with the buses and the drunken mismatched wandering crowds, shop front music, traffic light beeps to hurry you across the roads, the clinks of metal, buskers and cars and traffic jams. people rushing about on bikes on skateboards. ambulances, fire engines, garda cars, rushing we are all rushing to our destinations. cityscapes

To invite in the outside world to the noise we are making connections connecting things that have been connected but we are now listening to our world to an expression of our selfs and this soundscape we live in.

Its been fun its been an eyeopener and long may it continue the adventure is only starting.

To getting published on the Galway review

Heres to small victorys and huge pathways.

I was increibly grateful they choose to put it on the galway review website in there best of the week section http://thegalwayreview.com/2013/07/23/laney-mannion-we-all-make-mistakes-we-do/

If there was ever a week to open ones eyes it was last week

I seen the world in a different light, I seen my love, I seen possibiltys in a future I couldn’t wait to be part of.

Living here in this moment of time I could not possibly be happier

And tomorrow I will get a dictionary with all the words.

Tarantula: Bob Dylan my favourite bit.

"…look you asshole – tho I might be nothing but a butter sculptor, I refuse to go on working with the idea of your praising my reward – like what are your credentials anyway? Except for talking about all us butter sculptors, what else do you do? Do you know what it feels like to make some butter sculpture? Do you know what it feels like to actually ooze that butter around & create something of fantastic worth? You said that my last year’s work “The Kings Odor” was great & then you say I haven’t done anything as great since – just who the hell are you talking to anyway? You must have something to do in your real life – I understand tha you praised the piece you saw yesterday entitled “The Monkey Taster” about which you said meant “a nice work of butter carved into the shape of a young man who likes only African women” you are an idiot – it doesn’t mean that at all…I hereby want nothing to do with your hang-ups-I really don’t care what you think of my work as I now know you don’t understand it anyway…I must go now-I have this new hunk of margarine waiting in the bathtub – yes I said MARGARINE & next week I just might decide to use cream cheese - & I really don’t care what you think of my experimenting – yhou take yourself too seriously – you’re going to get an ulcer and go to the hospital-they’ll put you in a ward where you can’t have any visitors-you’ll go right off your nut-I really don’t care anymore-I am so bored with your rules and regulations that I might not even talk to you again-just remember tho, when you evaluate a piece of butter, you are talking about yourself, so you’d better sign your name…see you if you’re lucky at Mrs. Keelers cake festival.

Snowplow Floater

p.s – you’re my friend & I’m trying to help you”