For me, I always imagine Joyce’s spectacles. And a hat. Next, in this subliminal carousel of images and influences, is Nora, walking, passionate letters and the European continent. So, imagine my surprise when dancing – dancing! – entered the mix.
I went back looking for my lost language.
A poem about walking around the city, through the different parts and around the different people.
The Basque language remained unwritten for 1,000 years. Find out why.
The cult of Santa Muerte is deep and intoxicating.
The cult of Santa Muerte is deep and intoxicating.
I filmed a performance of Bollywood and Belly dancing, with a mixture of Irish dancing, recently, and it got me thinking about the deep connection between Ireland and India.
Irish Slice of Madrid 