Thirty or more paintings - many of Irish themes - covered the walls, art cards and food and drink filled the tables.
A piece caught my eye. I reached for my wallet.
“Could you add something to this painting before I pay for it?” I said to Kim.
He rolled his eyes. “What?”
“A man rowing a boat that’s filled to the gunnels with Jamesons and Guinness.”
He rolled his eyes again. “No.”
I didn’t even get the usual 2 per cent family discount. Ever so slowly and reluctantly, I paid in full.
‘Tir na nOg’ the painting is called. It’s a curious name.
In Raleigh, North Carolina, Tir na nOg is the name of a local pub at 218 South Blount Street.
“Named after the mythical Irish land of eternal youth, this cavernous pub is one of downtown's most popular hangouts for Raleigh-ites both young and old,” says an online site. No pub appears in my painting. No Jamesons. No Guinness.
There’s also a Tir na nOg Cottage in Bunbeg, Donegal, Ireland. No cottage appears in my painting.
At another website I found the following description:
“Tir na nOg is the land of eternal youth. This mythical and magical island was once believed to be far off the west coast of Ireland… beyond the edges of the maps… and could only be accessed by an invitation by one of its magical inhabitants.
It was a land of happiness, pleasure, youth, and beauty where sickness, death, want, and need did not exist. It is said that only on the rarest of occasions this magical land can be seen on the horizon. Wrapped in mist and mystery Tir na nOg only stays visible for mere moments before disappearing again for hundreds of years.”
Now, that tells me something that relates to the mystery and mood my brother’s painting evokes, at least in me.
Priceless.
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