Liz Warren | Storyteller

I remember sitting on a roof, looking over Dublin town It still seems so warm A sunny day, the shirts were off with love in the air Oh, we had it captured there We didn’t care too much about the weight of it all (from Dublin Song by T. Noonan ) Dublin got off to…

I got to go to Clonmacnoise twice this summer.  It’s just south of Athlone on the Shannon.  It’s one of the most beautiful places in the midlands of Ireland.  Since I live in a place where the river is held captive to provide water and electricity, I love to see a river running free. The…

His two guardian angels then came to Patrick and he asked them if it were the will of the King of Heaven and Earth that he be listening to the tales of the Fian.  They answered him with one voice: ‘Dear holy cleric,’ they said, ‘these old warriors tell you no more than a third…

"But one year as I grew older Mama firmly told me no. When the boys went out on roundup, Mama said I couldn’t go. Then she tried to teach me cooking, How to sew and keep the place. But my heart was roping yearlings, And I longed to barrel race." (from "Tomboy," by Dee Strickland…

“The lamp that lit that room, a thousand pounds wouldn’t buy a wick for it.”  (a disguised description of the moon from “Lord Benbow’s Table” from When Turkeys Chewed Tobacco by George Sheridan) Liz Weir was the lamp that lit the room of the Three Rivers Storytelling Festival for most of the week of June…

                                                                                                                                          “Stories are everywhere – they fall from…

           The first night she got here we learned from our new colleague, Elizabeth Ursic, that she had been harboring a dream since the last time she visited Dublin in the summer of 2005.  Her dream, tenderly nurtured these many years, was to play the spoons. She already played the piano and…

Songs of our land, ye are with us forever, The power and the splendor of thrones pass away, But yours is the might of some far flowing river Through Summer’s bright roses and Autumn’s decay. Ye treasure each voice of the swift passing ages And truth, which time writeth on leaves or on sand, Ye…

On Friday, June 6th, we went to Loughcrew, also known as the Sliabh Na Callighe – the hill of the witch. The callighe in the name is a reference to the cailleach, the great Celtic titanic goddess who is one of my favorites.  It always burns me to hear her referred to as a witch,…

         Last week at the library when it was time for Nuala to start, I asked the librarian Gearoid O’Brien if he’d like me to introduce her.  He said that he’d been planning to do it,  but that I should go ahead.  I then felt a little awkward and like a pushy…

“This is the beginning of the story. One day, Bran went walking alone near his home. Hearing music behind him, he looked back often, but he saw nothing. So sweet was the music he lay down and fell asleep. When he awoke, he saw beside him a The quoted text at the beginning of the…

When Nuala Hayes and I went to the Aidan Heavey Library in Athlone yesterday for her storytelling session, we were met by Mae McLynn and Gearoid O’Brien, who work at the library, and by Paula O’Dornan, who works for the Westmeath County Library system.  It was the first time I’d seen them this summer and…