Moment prelude
A short prelude that 'has its moments' I hope! David Braid.
Beauty
Perhaps reaching a definition of beauty is simply an exercise in skilful omission, in suggesting absences, in loss.
Happy New Year Mr. President. Episode 1: The Genesis Symposium
Do not approach these twelve minutes in anticipation of a plot, use them rather as a chance to contemplate all who have been born and died, or will be born and will die.
What is injustice?
Suffering is everywhere. Much is self-created. However, much is also structural, and derives from nature’s cruel hierarchies or from the abuse endemic in human systems. This latter source of suffering is known as injustice.
Sea to spawn
This one-minute film, as well as celebrating eels, explores the ways in which visual poems can be handled and archived. The concrete poem at the centre of the film is labyrinthine and interlacing, and its text ‘slides’ into the form of an eel to interrupt what would be an otherwise a linear poem.
Aria
Solo work for archtop guitar written and played by David Braid
Peace and Emptiness
In September, the seasons change. The mountains brim with wild fruit and mushrooms. The year begins to point towards an end. The shallow dance above the void seeks a space unpolluted by time, by sorrow, by joy. Despite our heartbreak and our acts of foolishness, somehow a perfect source remains intact.
Tales from Dublin Pubs: Grace's of Rathgar Road
Our first visit was spoiled by the sight of a drunken sot blatantly pissing himself while standing watching the horses, oblivious to the dark and disgusting stain spreading across his grubby pants. Subsequent visits proved more amenable and it has since come to be regarded as an especial favourite, even a gem.
Two Dudes with the Graveyard Blues
On one terribly hungover morning of 2015, Andrew Clarke and Thomas Helm stumbled their way to Montjuic Cemetery to serenade the dead. Rest in Peace, unknown friends. Presented to the public for the first time by Mercurius Magazine.
Emptiness
Our Universe is expanding fast. There are more mysteries than questions solved. The biggest mystery is life itself. Who are we? What is the power that leaves us when we die? Where do we come from and where are we going? Does the soul exist and what is it?
Among the incurables (and other poems)
Mercurius explores the wonderful worlds of Scott Harney, Kythe Heller, Oksana Sabuzhko, and Peter Balakian. Essential reading for our times.
September is for making chutney
This chutney is a religious experience. It will define the word chutney for you. Thick, spicy, aromatic, sweet and rich in umami, it can be eaten with bacon, eggs, salad, cheese, steak, sandwiches, cold meats, pâté, and more. The only limit is your imagination.
What is movement?
Creation’s favourite: the birds that serenade the fleeing stars, the Pamplemousse dawn, draped in sheets of pink and red across the sky…
Tales from Dublin Pubs: Molloy's of Talbot Street
This is one of Dublin’s few remaining early-houses and was once owned by two chuckle brothers from the West of Ireland who used their pub as a snare and knew how to set it.
The Good Life in a crisis-ridden age
All forms of society-building sprawl out of some kind of positive, moral principle. I will try to illustrate this point using four popular models as examples: the American Dream, the Close-knit Religious Community, the Buddhist Monastery and the Mediterranean Lifestyle.
Cultural Slavery
As a British Asian who arrived in England at the age of seven, I have asked myself, where do I belong? It is not easy to answer this question, even for those who never leave their place of birth. Where you live, and the culture that surrounds you, will affect you. It will shape your opinions and thinking, until you are also part of the cultural identity of that place.
A reminder from plants
They spoke as one entangled web, threading remains of an abandoned building. Their green veins had dismantled every wall but one.
Puneña No 2 for solo cello by Alberto Ginastera
One of the most important composers of the 20th century, Alberto Ginastera (1916-1983) embraced both old and new in the creation of an original style rooted in Argentine folk and popular music while incorporating increasingly modernist techniques.
Memories of bygone homes
I have lived in London nearly four years now; the time has passed like a heartbeat. A blink. It’s only when I go “home” that I realise how much time has passed. Returning to my hometown is strange. Mostly the same with a few things moved around and fewer people I know: a gallery of memories, myself a ghost, stirred by sights or smells. New memories in this realm don’t feel possible.
Transform your mind: go home
Home is not a place but a feeling of connection. We merely attach that feeling to places and people. But external circumstances change throughout our lives. It is therefore easy to end up homeless, with no place of emotional warmth to run to, a cold and lost state. Having to run anywhere is the source of the problem. Home is not somewhere else
The never-ending quest…
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