Youmans (pronounced like 'yeoman' with an 's' added) is the best-kept secret
among contemporary American writers. --John Wilson, editor, Books and Culture Marly Youmans is a novelist and poet out of sync with the times
but in tune with the ages. --First Things

Sunday, June 05, 2011

Wales Album: Stairs to other realms

Up to the tiptop of Ty Isaf
and the studio of Clive Hicks-Jenkins

Aberystwyth flower steps.

The pheasants take the stairs at Ty Issaf.

Steps to Jack's world.
"Throw my frisbee?"

From garden lawn to paddock, past a Meri Wells tutelary spirit.
At Ty Isaf.

Castell Powis stairs.

Peacocks take and fan the stairs at Castell Powis.

8 comments:

  1. Funny to click here and see Tiberius, who right now I can hear outside as he calls to his wives, and Jack with his frisbee, who is napping contentedly by my side. My animals have website lives!

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  2. Great pictures, Marly! I especially like the Steps to Jack's world and the Castell Powis stairs.

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  3. I too am enjoying these photographs. The garden steps all look to be created specifically - which is something I like a lot!
    Why do all the stairs lead up....

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  4. Clive,

    Wish I had caught Tiberius on the stairs with harem!

    Clare,

    Go to Jack's world, and you can watch the rooks sailing...

    Paul,

    Beware of the steps that lead down, down, down! I guess we are looking where we are going rather than backward, behind, down.

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  5. Claire,
    I feel the same way. What is Tiberius?
    What heaven it would be to live in such a beautiful place!

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  6. Tiberius is the he-pheasant. He has she-pheasans, and they have progeny.

    Yes, very tempting to stay and be Cinderash at Ty Isaf.

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  7. Flower and peacock steps, please?? I love your photos!

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  8. Yes, I want all of them! Flower steps for my front door, peacock steps at the back. Flannery O'Connor had the peacock steps... why not us?

    Thanks, Hannah!

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Alas, I must once again remind large numbers of Chinese salesmen and other worldwide peddlers that if they fall into the Gulf of Spam, they will be eaten by roaming Balrogs. The rest of you, lovers of grace, poetry, and horses (nod to Yeats--you do not have to be fond of horses), feel free to leave fascinating missives and curious arguments.