Hi, welcome to String Revolution. I'm Léan, I live in Dublin with my husband and two little boys, and I am a dangerous stringy subversive.
My job is to radiate my creative truth, and to help you radiate yours. I create, without exception, every day. I write here when I have something to say.

(learn more about me).

Why I Am Not Here

Oh, my friends, I have such an unruly mob of posts clamouring to be written.

My poor brainchildren. I didn’t think they’d have to wait this long.

August into the first part of September was a jostling, sprinty, headlong dash, with four separate trips away, house guests, several birthdays, creative feats ranging from a Master’s thesis (Niall) to a short film (the Oyster, with a little help from his friends), a work trip (Niall) and a choir trip (me).

Lots of firsts, for me. I went to the Festival of Quilts in Birmingham. I taught classes on embroidery, Shiva Nata, and gender normativity (severally, not jointly). I did paintings in acrylic and oil. It was marvellous, and I’ll tell you all about it soon.

And then there was sadness. My grandmother, who turned 91 in May, was admitted to hospital at the beginning of August, suffering from pneumonia and the effects of a minor stroke. She rallied, and was doing quite well, but then her younger sister died, which shocked her profoundly, and she began to decline again.

Meanwhile, Niall’s grandmother also died, and we travelled to Belfast for her funeral last Tuesday.

I was worried that my grandmother would die while I was away, but she hung on.

I saw her twice more. She died yesterday, peacefully, surrounded by her family. (I wasn’t there, but I had seen her earlier in the day.)

I am very sad.

I will be back here as soon as I can.

6 comments to Why I Am Not Here

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