laughter is the best medicine because it awakens gratitude for the unseen.

there is only the sensation that everything feels so good. more laughter.

i laugh and then in the awkward silence i remember when we laughed. i feel what is unseen.

i miss you and i hope there is at least enough peace and laughter where you are.

i hope this always. so please laugh.

and may, in your laughter, there be no captive.

Just want to let you know that there are some pretty cool developments being worked out that will in due time be shared.  I have relocated three times this year and while trying to find that missing box (with the ipod in it) I found something else.  There are good gifts in this world so grab them and give them…..to even the undeserving…..they are only gifts anyway and one never knows when they will be genuinely received.  Stay tuned!

Thanks,

Molly Irene

I am dating myself but truly it was the first thing on my mind to say thank you to some people that have really been there for me! There will always be change and with it comes some form of resistance or perhaps discrimination and then there is a beautiful calm. Tonight I returned home from a night out with friends who have been to so many of my performances (like tonight) with enthusiasm and support.

All I want to do is write how very thankful I am to enjoy genuine moments that inspire growth! And as we have a laugh to all that life is throwing at us stylish looks dart across the room followed with laughter….I dig it all. I have just truly been enjoying the human spirit for what it is : the good, bad, ugly and beautiful. We all go through something at some point(s) where we realize our flaws, potential, prejudice, virtues, vices ….and realistic dreams. It is those who love and hate us that get us to that great awareness. The gems see us through……no matter what.

I am turning in with a mountain of work on my mind but all I can see is a Norman Rockwell painting and the essence of humanity. It is still an art…..not another fad. Thank you to those who share this love with me. I really mean the greatest thank you! And to those who traveled out to Franklin, Opryland, and Brown’s for my shows…..hot damn…I love you! Hey, how about Kay’s Irish brown bread? I got upstaged by a stick of butter! Real roots man.

Thanks for sending me this pic Caroline!

When purpose

Of the heart flies

Shooting past the star

I wished upon when young

Living longer than any sun

Coasting through the ages

Experiencing the phases

Of the moon’s moods

And its color of blue

And my soul

Unsettled and arriving

Upon conclusions and surviving

Storms of under toes to an abyss

In dreams

I saw friends and lovers

Enemies and others

But I have never seen

Life quite like this

Written by Molly Irene / 2000

]]> http://mollyirene.com/2009/02/2000-poem/feed/ http://mollyirene.com/2009/01/description-of-site-songwriters-credits-to-songs-for-new-cd/ http://mollyirene.com/2009/01/description-of-site-songwriters-credits-to-songs-for-new-cd/#comments Sat, 31 Jan 2009 09:45:56 +0000 MollyAdmin http://72.47.250.248/?p=181 For those of you who take the time to read the blogs :

This blog is intended to be an open forum. I have a section that is called Q & A because of questions that I get asked. I welcome responses and more questions to my blog but I do ask that they are respectful. Please know that I will do my very best to correspond.

My Songs on the “Listen Now” :

Some of the newer songs were uploaded prior to the mastering. The first 8 in the playlist are from the soon to be released Earned Heart and Linnet Be. Number 9 on the playlist is a new original to describe my future recordings. The rest are my originals from Sing For You and Sunday Sometimes. I hope that you enjoy the journey in the meantime and I truly look forward to sharing so much more with you.  If you would like to pre-order the new release by all means contact me through this site.

Credits to the songwriters of the first 8 songs on my playlist:

The Butcher Boy : Traditional

Red is the Rose : Traditional

Only a Woman’s Heart : words / music by Eleanor McEvoy

The Water is Wide : Traditional

Caledonia : words / music by Dougie Maclean

Sonny’s Dream : composition by Ron Hynes

Wind in the Willows : Traditional

Dimming of the Day : words / music by Linda and Richard Thompson

Merchandise :

I do have shirts and stickers and canvas bags and….cds….loads of those! There will be an online format in the future where you will be able to place orders.

Disclaimer :

If there is mention of anyone, anything, any place that is misrepresented or invades privacy please contact me through my contact page and I will make necessary changes.

Thank you for your kind interest and I hope to sing for you real soon again!

Answer: This is not a short answer; it’s a serendipitous journey.

In 2001 I went to Ireland with my brother Patrick. It was a graduation gift to myself and he was already a world traveler with his career after college. I had always wanted to go there considering I grew up with the music and culture and was an Irish dancer at one point. The poetry was the catalyst at that point as well. My relations in my life supported the great poets of the world and my mind was caught in the timeless web of some great pieces. After finishing up my college career as an actor and playing the role of a ghost in “Bloody Poetry” it seemed fitting to visit the green isles where poetry is in the fog lifting from the water, on the tips of tongues of pub patrons, in statues, in castles, in B&B’s, in the gossip, in the folklore, in the schools, in the rolling hills, even in the drink!

My mom wanted to go with me as she was the expert on traveling Ireland. She always encouraged me to study abroad and would have fitted the bill, but I refused as I believed I may not have returned to finish my education. I knew I would fall in love with Ireland.

I flew alone to meet my brother. The travels over a great body of water was a bit daunting, but as soon as I stepped out of the airport, where my brother was waiting for me, I realized I was home. My brother agreed that with all the places he had visited Ireland felt the most like home. So, the seed was planted.

We stayed in Dublin the first couple nights and met some people from Kansas City at the famed Temple Bar. We visited the Guiness Brewery where we enjoyed the tastiest Guiness ever!

Guiness in Dublin

We ate a lot of meat…a lot of meat. In our first night out we watched an intoxicated man get kicked out of the bar because he was “disturbing the peace”. To this day that moment is one of the most vivid and favorite memories! He was talking to us and really not disturbing but entertaining me. He said, “You’re from Americay? Well I am the real thing. I am the real thing. I am Ireland.” When he was asked to leave I begged an autograph in my journal before he left.

the real thing

I watched him walk through the tall wooden doors with the setting sunlight peeking through and as he turned one last time he began to sing, “this land is your land this land is Ireland” with his finger of jupiter pointed to the sky he turned his back to us and went out the door singing that phrase on repeat. Who would’ve ever thought that eight years later I would be recording folk tunes in an Irish album.

We then went to Kilkenny…….

My brother was agitated with finding a place to rest so I was sent into the pub The Witness Box with the threat “hurry up and don’t talk too much just get the room!” I got the room. I listened too much and we made a pub full of friends that night! Adrian had approached me at the bar as I inquired about the B&B above the pub. He told me, “go get da brudder…the lads are staying here tonight.” When my brother walked into the pub ready to give me a tongue lashing of words he was smitten by the welcoming energy of Adrian as was I. Adrian said to my brother, “you made one mistake - you came in here”.

The Witness Box

We stayed that night and passed the guitar and banjo around and sang and laughed and there was a moment of tears as the old man at the end of the bar sang an a’ccapella ballad. A handsome lad  sang the most beautiful “Town I Loved So Well”. We stayed two nights and shoved off to Killarney to see Mary Chapin Carpenter and Shawn Colvin perform. My brother was not privy to their music and was doing me a kind favor. We got to meet Mary Chapin. As we walked out of the concert I wolfed down a chocolate bar and with mouth full I struggled to swallow as I shook her hand. The photo is pathetic. I looked guilty of something (chocolate) and she looked like a solid performer on route. The show was brilliant!

We went back to Kilkenny because we made so many friends and had so much fun! Adrian guaranteed a place for me to stay should I come back to visit (which I did 5 months later with the completion of my first original album Sing For You). He assured my brother that I would be in good hands. The time spent in Kilkenny lent me advice through observation. Adrian insisted that I give an open heart to the idea of moving to Nashville. He mentioned his greatest influences in the USA (John Prine, Nanci Griffith, Eva Cassidy). When I returned from Ireland my father started in as well, “you should move to Nashville”. I really never wanted or thought of moving to Nashville, but fate would have it no other way. I became increasingly content with playing music with friends in St. Louis and thought to move to LA but Nashville tugged at me in an almost annoying way. Three trips to Nashville in one year and I still couldn’t see myself living there. Then I got the boot from my mother who impulsively packed up the car for a trip to find an apartment in Nashville. She was the accidental psychic.

I came to Nashville kicking and screaming. While living here each chance encounter led me to the one promise I made to myself, “I will move to Nashville and honor the advice of others. I will not leave Nashville until I have recorded an Irish album (if I don’t get the opportunity in Ireland). ” I retracted on that promise many times and tried to leave Nashville with no accomplishment. I even tried to contact old friends in Kilkenny to record over there. There was a side dream when I was in Ireland I told my friend that we would together record again.

Tom Bailey (DH photo 2001)

When Tom passed away in 2006 I was devastated. I thought he would at least be on some new recordings along with friend Sarah Zagurski (who traveled back to Ireland with me in September 2001).  I still had hopes for friends back home, but time stepped in.  Coincidentally, I was ending my tour in 2006 when I heard of Tom’s passing. I made an unexpected trip to St. Louis days before my Bluebird debut but little did I know it would be to honor his passing. Dear ones who were with me the day of his funeral were some who supported my first cd release with Tom in Kansas City. Their strength that day carried me: Sarah, my mom, my dad, my uncle Gerald (and my brother Michael who persisted my mind stay with music in creating my logo that same afternoon).

the logo

Back to Nashville I went and watched the Cardinals win the World series while at Brown’s. I performed at the Bluebird and have since met so many more brilliant minds in music! Eight months later Terri (one of the bartenders at Brown’s) asked me to work as a server there. I hesitated on the opportunity and took four days to think it over. After four days I walked into Brown’s on Memorial day and told Ron Kimbro (a kindred Cardinals fan) that I would take the job temporarily. For four months I worked there and grew more comfortable with people I had met. I also grew tired of my stomping ground being a place of work though. When all the other doors had closed I finally got the nerve to raise the stakes. It took me four years in Nashville to lead me to the courage of asking Pat McInerney to produce my Irish album. All the arrows were pointing to one place.

My good friend Roberto Bianco was with me when the lightbulb flashed. I was playing guitar (songs I’ve written and songs I’ve covered). My mind was daydreaming about a new album and I had so many new songs to sift through. Then I said, “I need to do an Irish album. Maybe Pat would be willing to produce it”. Thirty minutes later Roberto said, “I bet Pat is at Brown’s Diner”. There we found many friends including Pat. Roberto told Pat that I had something important to ask. With a happy heart he said “yes” to producing an Irish album. There you have it; the seed was planted and what felt like home to me is now shared with you. I am so happy to have gone through with it!

Once more the storm is howling, and half hid
Under this cradle-hood and coverlid
My child sleeps on. There is no obstacle
But Gregory’s wood and one bare hill
Whereby the haystack- and roof-levelling wind,
Bred on the Atlantic, can be stayed;
And for an hour I have walked and prayed
Because of the great gloom that is in my mind.

I have walked and prayed for this young child an hour
And heard the sea-wind scream upon the tower,
And under the arches of the bridge, and scream
In the elms above the flooded stream;
Imagining in excited reverie
That the future years had come,
Dancing to a frenzied drum,
Out of the murderous innocence of the sea.

May she be granted beauty and yet not
Beauty to make a stranger’s eye distraught,
Or hers before a looking-glass, for such,
Being made beautiful overmuch,
Consider beauty a sufficient end,
Lose natural kindness and maybe
The heart-revealing intimacy
That chooses right, and never find a friend.

Helen being chosen found life flat and dull
And later had much trouble from a fool,
While that great Queen, that rose out of the spray,
Being fatherless could have her way
Yet chose a bandy-leggd smith for man.
It’s certain that fine women eat
A crazy salad with their meat
Whereby the Horn of Plenty is undone.

In courtesy I’d have her chiefly learned;
Hearts are not had as a gift but hearts are earned
By those that are not entirely beautiful;
Yet many, that have played the fool
For beauty’s very self, has charm made wise,
And many a poor man that has roved,
Loved and thought himself beloved,
From a glad kindness cannot take his eyes.

May she become a flourishing hidden tree
That all her thoughts may like the linnet be,
And have no business but dispensing round
Their magnanimities of sound,
Nor but in merriment begin a chase,
Nor but in merriment a quarrel.
O may she live like some green laurel
Rooted in one dear perpetual place.

My mind, because the minds that I have loved,
The sort of beauty that I have approved,
Prosper but little, has dried up of late,
Yet knows that to be choked with hate
May well be of all evil chances chief.
If there’s no hatred in a mind
Assault and battery of the wind
Can never tear the linnet from the leaf.

An intellectual hatred is the worst,
So let her think opinions are accursed.
Have I not seen the loveliest woman born
Out of the mouth of Plenty’s horn,
Because of her opinionated mind
Barter that horn and every good
By quiet natures understood
For an old bellows full of angry wind?

Considering that, all hatred driven hence,
The soul recovers radical innocence
And learns at last that it is self-delighting,
Self-appeasing, self-affrighting,
And that its own sweet will is Heaven’s will;
She can, though every face should scowl
And every windy quarter howl
Or every bellows burst, be happy still.

And may her bridegroom bring her to a house
Where all’s accustomed, ceremonious;
For arrogance and hatred are the wares
Peddled in the thoroughfares.
How but in custom and in ceremony
Are innocence and beauty born?
Ceremony’s a name for the rich horn,

And custom for the spreading laurel tree.

June 1919