"The great theme is not Romeo and Juliet," said poet Anne Sexton. "The great theme we all share is that of becoming ourselves, of overcoming our father and mother, of assuming our identities somehow." This is certainly your great theme, Capricorn. And it's especially important for you to devote yourself to it now. You're at a turning point in your life-long transformation. You're being presented with a clear-cut choice between sinking back into the ill-fitting yet comfortable mold that others have shaped for you, or else striding out into the frontier in a brave push to become a higher, deeper, more complete version of yourself.
This would be a perfect time for you to write your ultimate personal manifesto. I'm talking about composing a sweeping statement of the core ideas that fuel your lust for life. To get you in the mood, take a look at the following lyrics from Danny Schmidt's song "Company of Friends." "I believe in restless hunger . . . I believe in private thunder . . . I believe in inspiration . . . I believe in slow creation . . . I believe in lips on ears . . . I believe in being wrong . . . I believe in contradiction . . . I believe in living smitten . . . I believe our book is written by our company of friends."
1. I found out that I got the Mainzer Fellowship to Cambridge next winter! I'll be there for two months as part of their gender studies program, and I'm ecstatic about it! While there, I will be doing research about Julia Clifford and Lucy Farr.
2. Jenny & I spent five days in Paris, catching up with our friend Chris, formerly a student in composition in NYU. He moved to France a few years ago, and we got to hang out with him and his fabulous Parisian and ex-pat friends. We felt tres chic, indeed!
3. My Irish language skills are much improved, thanks to the FLAS grant that allowed me to spend about a month and a half studying at Oideas Gael. Of course I have lots to say about that, but for now, I'll leave it by saying that despite its significant flaws (namely its very pathetic food shop) I'm already making plans to get back to Glencolumcille as soon as possible.
4. I perfected my apple crumble technique, sans measurements of any kind other than by eyeball and handful. Once it cools off enough to want the oven on--which, providentially, will coincide with apple season--I'll have to see whether my newfound skills came with me across the Atlantic, or whether they were a magical gift of the cottage in Glen where I stayed for the month of June.
5. I caught my first 4 fish! Mackerel, off the coast near Teelin. I fried them up and they were beautiful.
6. I heard about the song "Automatic Lover" for the first time ever. Stay tuned....
1. Fieldwork interviews. This omission felt right and good, though--partly because I was busy learning Irish, thinking about my project--and what's more, have not filed any research plans with the Human Subjects Board at NYU (better safe than sorry).
2. A great deal of fiddling. The first three weeks I was in Glen, the good music was elsewhere, and I didn't have a car. I did make up for lost time later in the summer there (more on this later), but also momentously, I spent a total of about 12 hours at the Willie Clancy week. That, for you non-traddies out there, is a trifling amount, because in past years I've spent nearly all my waking hours for a week there. And during that 12 hours or so, I played maybe an hour's worth. Again, more on the whys and wherefores of this later.
3. Drinking. I probably had a total of 5 pints the whole summer, taken glass by glass. My coffee intake was slightly higher, but still fairly insignificant. My consumption of black tea and Donegal bogwater, however, was unprecedented.
