Latest Posts by wheelchair-wizard - Page 6

Irish Mythology.

VOL 11.

The Grogoch - The Irish-Scotish Trickster.

Once upon a time, in the rugged hills of Ireland, there dwelled a curious and peculiar creature known as the Grogoch. This little being was neither fully human nor entirely fairy, existing in a liminal space between the two worlds.

Resembling a very small elderly man, the Grogoch was covered in coarse, dense reddish hair or fur. His attire consisted not of garments, but rather an assortment of twigs and dirt collected during his travels. Personal hygiene was not his forte, and there were no records of any female Grogochs—perhaps they were equally elusive or simply nonexistent.

But the Grogoch possessed remarkable abilities. He was impervious to searing heat and freezing cold, a resilience that defied the elements. His home, if one could call it that, might be a hidden cave, a hollow in the landscape, or a cleft in the ancient stones scattered across the northern countryside. These stones, leaning and weathered, were affectionately known as the “Grogochs’ houses.”

The Grogoch was a creature of paradox. While he preferred to remain unseen, he occasionally revealed himself to trusted individuals. Those fortunate enough to catch a glimpse of him described a wizened face, eyes twinkling with secrets, and a mischievous smile. He would scuttle about kitchens, seeking odd jobs to do—helping with planting, harvesting, or domestic chores. His payment? Simple: a jug of cream or a pint of ale.

Yet, like many fairies, the Grogoch harbored a deep fear of the clergy. If a priest or minister graced a household, the Grogoch would vanish, retreating to the shadows. Perhaps he sensed their spiritual authority or simply preferred to avoid their stern gazes.

And so, across the misty moors, the Grogoch continued his clandestine existence. His stinky presence became woven into the fabric of Irish folklore, whispered about in hushed tones by firesides. His work remained uncelebrated, his name rarely uttered aloud. But those who knew of him—the farmers with bountiful crops, the housewives with tidy hearths—secretly thanked the Grogoch for his unseen labor.

And thus, the legend of the Grogoch persisted, a reminder that magic and mystery lingered in the nooks and crannies of the Emerald Isle. So, the next time you find a leaning stone or catch a whiff of something peculiar, pause and wonder: Could it be the Grogoch, still tending to his silent tasks, hidden from our mortal eyes? 

Christy,

Male, Husband, Dad, Family man, Friendly, Easygoing.

Dad's [ Christy ]Electric Wheelchair Fundraiser.

Please only help to support me if you can afford too.

Otherwise please help yourself to my artwork.

It'is genuinely FREE for everyone to download and enjoy.

Just click the Buy me a coffee.It's my artwork Shop.

1000's of Pics.New pic's added every day.

FREE artwork drawings 3d images for all occasions.

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Hi! It's kinda shameful to go this route , but being diabetic person .Now over 6 months my unemployment still pending This has been the worst couple of years of my life. Our house was destroyed in a storm. Then  I am desperately in need for help. I need my insulin to bring my blood sugar back down. It’s $300 That’s all I need. I’m not asking for a windfall, just a little help, please.

Be blessed 💓🙏🙏💓

            DONATE AND SHARE

Hi.If I could help you I would.That is the truth.but I cannot even afford all my own meds.A few years ago I would have helped you no problem.Sadly my own life has gone downhill and I am no longer in a position to help anyone.Except with advice and words.Sorry.I mean that.I truly am sorry

Irish Mythology.

VOL 10

The Sluagh. Soul Stealers.

Of all the wonders and terrors in Irish folklore there are few quite so terrifying as the Sluagh. Tales were told of their wild hunt long before the coming of Christianity to Ireland, and even today old folk in the countryside will keep the windows on the west side of the house fastened tight at all times, but most especially during wakes or if someone in the house was unwell, for fear of the Sluagh coming to pay a midnight visit on their humble homes.

Wicked or saintly, kind or cruel, the Sluagh play no favourites, they'll take the souls of all that cross their path, although some say they have a particular taste for the living spirits of those who have found true love. The ancients used to think they were faerie gone terribly wrong, warped and twisted, without fear, reason or mercy. When the light came to Ireland they became the souls of lost sinners seeking to drag the unfaithful down to hell with them, but the result was the same.

The host of the unforgiven dead roam the earth on Samhain, Halloween, and it is for this reason that all fires were forbidden on that night in times gone by, so as not to attract their attention. Even death itself was no release for the souls they captured joined them on their hunt, spiralling throughout the lands of Ireland and further abroad on that darkest of nights.

Said one monk in times of yore, "The spirits fly about in great clouds, up and down the face of the world like the starlings, and come back to the scenes of their earthly transgressions. No soul of them is without the clouds of earth, dimming the brightness of the works of earth. In bad nights, the Sluagh shelter themselves behind little russet docken stems and little yellow ragwort stalks. They fight battles in the air as men do on the earth."

If denied their rightful - as they see it - feast, they don't balk at the slaughter of cattle, cats, dogs, and sheep with their poison darts. It is said that the Sluagh "commanded men to follow them, and men obeyed, having no alternative. It was these men of earth who slew and maimed at the bidding of their spirit-masters, who in return ill-treated them in a most pitiless manner. They would be rolling and dragging and trouncing them in mud and mire and pools."

In the form of a vast flock of black ravens twined about with undulating shadows they came, the echoes of their wings being found in stories of ill-omened birds heralding bad times ahead. The truly broken hearted might be attacked, or the foolish or unlucky might call them upon themselves by uttering the name Sluagh nine times over and over, pronounced sloo-ah for fear you might say it yourself, perhaps in a fit of sneezing. Upon closer inspection the great birds look more like wretched thin shades of their previous selves, with gnarled talons like the blackthorn's boughs for hands and feet, and wings of dusky smoke.

And once they have your scent let me tell you - you're in trouble then! If the pitiable mortal that has drawn their eye can bestir themselves it would be well to get indoors, with all locked and fastened, until the beating of dark wings fades with the light of dawn. Chroniclers of old also wisely advised avoiding places of loneliness such as dark forests and empty streets, lest a passing hunt might take a fancy to you! There is one other way to avoid joining them for all eternity, although most dreadful it is, and that's to give them another person in your stead.

They say a woman was eaten alive by the Sluagh in Co. Roscommon

Christy,

Male, Husband, Dad, Family man, Friendly, Easygoing.

Dad's [ Christy ]Electric Wheelchair Fundraiser.

Please only help to support me if you can afford too.

Otherwise please help yourself to my artwork.

It'is genuinely FREE for everyone to download and enjoy.

Just click the Buy me a coffee.It's my artwork Shop.

1000's of Pics.New pic's added every day.

FREE artwork drawings 3d images for all occasions.

Buy me a Coffee https://www.buymeacoffee.com/myfrontdoor .

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Just something to make you smile today.I hope you like.Christy. 1000's of Pics.New pic's added every day. FREE artwork drawings 3d images for all occasions. Buy me a Coffee www.buymeacoffee.com/myfrontdoor . Paypal donate www.paypal.com/donate/?host... . Patreon support www.patreon.com/MyFrontDoor .

https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.infinitycow.eplay

Laptop 8 yrs old.can't support or upgrade.

reidc5056@gmail.com Christy-Wheelchair Wizard

I don't know if this is reassuring at all, but as an "anti-ai" artist, know that you have my support. I believe ai image generation can be a wonderful and fun tool, I just hope in the future it can be more ethically based and not treated as a replacement for real artists in professional settings. Ai itself is not the problem.

Wishing you the best <3

Thank you.I appreciate that.I will always be a supporter and advocate for real art and artists.

More than life changeing.I have been locked indoors for 14 years.I live in a rural area in the middle of nowhere.Only gravel and tractor ruts as roads.It's not possible for a normal wheelchair to move on these.The chair I need is a special 3 wheeler that can get ove these ruts and stones.A dream I have been praying for for all these years.Nobody can help me with this.So I have to do it myself.Hence using my Ai art to try and get the funds to buy the chair.Sadly I have had no luck yet.Not one sponsor.But I refuse to give up.I will keep trying as hard as I can to Get this chair.Just the dream of getting out keeps me going.Still on the funny side.Maybe my art is just too bad to look at Ha Ha.Never give up.Never quit.Never stop.If I did I would have given up when I first realized I would be A vegetable for the rest of my life.My family kept me together.Now I fight to keep going for them.They did not give up on me.I refuse to give up for them.I WILL GET THE CHAIR.Even if it takes the rest of my life to do it. Thanks for the message.It cheered me up.Christy

hi i really hope you're doing well! im so sorry for the abuse and ridicule that you've had to endure for expressing yourself using a tool that allows you to pursue your passion despite the unfortunate circumstances you have to experience. you're such a creative and kind person! the people pointing fingers are immature and bitter to the point where they have the need to harrass others to feel better than them and more morally superior. this is a mental sickness that society has and is definitely not your fault at all. i hope people wake up to the usefulness of ai while still holding corporations accountable for its ethical concerns. keep on doing what you're doing! there are people who understand and want to support your endeavors including me. have a wonderful day!

Thank you for the lovely message,You made me smile.

why follow anti ai blogs if you support stealing artwork- i mean.. support ai images. can you even read

If you care to take the time to read my past posts and blogs.You would know why.Don't jump to conclusions before you know the details.Thanks

Hi Everyone.

I keep getting messages about WHY I use Ai.WHY I don't feel guilty about it.Plus a lot of very abusive messages and emails,This is not having a good effect on my mind and health.

Here is a short explanation of WHY.

After catching a Virus while working.I was left Paralyzed with brain damage,I went from a healthy Physical worker{Builder} A scuba diving instructor and a love of everything outdoors.From Running,Diving,Swimming,Hill walking,Charity sports fundraiser.To a vegetable.I have lost everything else.But Ai gave me back my Art.After 14 yrs staring out a window.Wishing for the worst.I was given a way to express myself again.It's impossible for anyone not in the same position to grasp the miracle this is to me.All i need now is a way to get outside to make the most of this miracle.I am now using that Ai as a way to try and raise funds to purchase an Outdoor Electric Wheelchair.Nothing Evil.i am not trying to ruin TRUE artists livings or push Ai onto anyone else who might otherwise use or collect REAL Art.I love real artwork.It was once a big part of my life.Nothing can replace the genuine artwork and ideas of the human mind.NOTHING.

I don't have the choice to create artwork anymore.There is a lot of other human beings in exactly the same position as myself.We can not make you understand what Ai has given so much of us.But we can ask that you TRY. We do no harm to you and simply wish to live and enjoy a tool that makes our lives more bearable and to be left alone without feeling guilty for this small miracle.

I hope this helps you to understand a little better.

Thanks.Christy.

Christy Wheelchair Fundraiser.

Links;

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Irish Myths

VOL 9. The SELKIE. An Irish Mermaid Story

The Selkie’s Secret

In a forgotten corner of the Emerald Isle, where cliffs stood like ancient guardians and the waves whispered forgotten lullabies, there dwelled a fisherman named Eamon. His cottage clung to the rugged coast, its thatched roof weathered by countless storms. Eamon was a man of few words, his eyes etched with the sorrows of a lifetime spent chasing elusive fish and memories.

One tempest-laden evening, as rain drummed upon the windowpanes and the sea roared its defiance, Eamon stumbled upon a sight that would forever alter the course of his existence. There, nestled amidst the seaweed-strewn rocks, lay a treasure—a seal pelt of silver-gray, soft as moonlight and shimmering with otherworldly grace. Eamon’s gnarled fingers traced its edges, and he knew he held something more than mere fur. This was the skin of a Selkie—a creature of myth and melancholy.

The legends whispered of Selkies—of their dual existence, their fluidity between land and sea. By day, they swam as seals, their sleek bodies slicing through the icy depths. But when the moon hung low, they shed their skins, emerging as ethereal women, their eyes reflecting the mysteries of the abyss.

Eamon hid the pelt beneath his bed, its presence a secret shared only with the wind and the salt. Days turned into weeks, and his cottage became a sanctuary for the lost and the weary. Sailors sought refuge from raging storms, widows mourned husbands swallowed by the sea—all found solace within those walls. Yet Eamon’s gaze often strayed to the hidden pelt, wondering if the Selkie would return.

Then, one moonless night, as the stars blinked like ancient eyes, Eamon heard it—a melody that tugged at his heart, a lament woven from moonbeams and longing. He rushed to the window, and there she stood: the Selkie. Her skin was pale as foam, her hair a cascade of seaweed green. Her eyes held the wisdom of ages, and her lips curved in both fear and hope.

She was naked, vulnerable—a creature caught between realms. Eamon retrieved the pelt, its silvery strands slipping through his fingers like water. He held it out to her, voice barely a whisper. “Take it,” he said. “Be free.”

The Selkie’s tears glistened. She reached for the pelt, her fingers trembling. But then she hesitated, torn between love and duty. For Selkies faced a cruel choice: to remain with mortal lovers or return to the sea. Their hearts were bound by moonlight and salt spray.

Eamon understood. He had glimpsed eternity in her eyes, tasted salt and starlight on her lips. And so, with a bittersweet smile, he released her. The Selkie donned her pelt, her form shifting until she became a sleek seal once more. She nuzzled his cheek, a silent farewell, before slipping into the waves.

As the sea swallowed her, Eamon wept—for love unspoken, for a Selkie lost, and for the ache that would haunt him till his dying day. He walked the cliffs thereafter, eyes scanning the horizon, listening for her song—a melody carried by the wind, sung by a Selkie who danced beneath the moon.

And so, the legend of Eamon and the Selkie passed from generation to generation—a tale of sacrifice, of love that transcended realms, and of a fisherman who held the sea’s secrets close to his heart.

And there, my friend, ends our journey—a whisper of magic and longing that lingers in the salt-laden air, where Selkies still dance upon moonlit shores

Christy,

Male, Husband, Dad, Family man, Friendly, Easygoing.

Dad's [ Christy ]Electric Wheelchair Fundraiser.

Please only help to support me if you can afford too.

Otherwise please help yourself to my artwork.

It'is genuinely FREE for everyone to download and enjoy.

Just click the Buy me a coffee.It's my artwork Shop.

1000's of Pics.New pic's added every day.

FREE artwork drawings 3d images for all occasions.

Buy me a Coffee https://www.buymeacoffee.com/myfrontdoor .

Paypal donate https://www.paypal.com/donate/?hosted_button_id=UQD48H4SCEEPE .

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Laughter is good for the Heart.

NightCafe Ai.

Christy,

Male, Husband, Dad, Family man, Friendly, Easygoing.

Dad's [ Christy ]Electric Wheelchair Fundraiser.

Please only help to support me if you can afford too.

Otherwise please help yourself to my artwork.

It'is genuinely FREE for everyone to download and enjoy.

Just click the Buy me a coffee.It's my artwork Shop.

1000's of Pics.New pic's added every day.

FREE artwork drawings 3d images for all occasions.

Buy me a Coffee https://www.buymeacoffee.com/myfrontdoor .

Paypal donate https://www.paypal.com/donate/?hosted_button_id=UQD48H4SCEEPE .

Patreon support https://www.patreon.com/MyFrontDoor .

FREE funny creatures and objects.

Dad's Wheelchair Fundraiser.

I supply free items in the form of Artwork and a host of other material.

All items are available for download only

Christy,

Male, Irish, Dad, Family man, Friendly, Easygoing.

Hi Guys.

1st about me. In short.I caught a deadly virus. I'm now severely disabled with some cognitive disfunction.BUT I'm not giving up.Into Nightcafe Ai and other Ai generators.I was a builder,A scuba diver,Hill walker,Sports charity supporter.[Run,Swim,Raft race etc to raise funds] A gardener and anything to do with outdoors.Love animals of all kinds.Family man and loved to chat with anyone.Every nation,Every country,Every people.I loved speaking to everyone. I'm Irish and we call it loving the banther,ie The Craic and the Chat.

Now.

I'm trying to create something To raise funds for a new electric Wheelchair and hopefully something that makes people smile & brightens their day. If one person laughs.Everyone around them smiles.It.s lovely. It's like a good virus.

If by some Miracle I raise these funds.

Any extra funds will be donated to the S.V.D.P.

St Vincent De Paul for families and people in dire need of help.

They are a wonderful charity in need of our support.

PLEASE. Help me with ideas and thoughts to achieve this goal. I will read & take every bit of help I can get.Everyone is welcome to help.

Thanks Guys.Christy.

NOW.

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Honestly, I don't have any problems with AI unless the AI is using other people's art, I'm glad you've been using it though for good and non-malicous reasons 😸

Thanks.I have lost everything else.But Ai gave me back my Art.After 14 yrs staring out a window.Wishing for the worst.I was given a way to express myself again.It's impossible for anyone not in the same position to grasp the miracle this is to me.All i need now is a way to get outside to make the most of this miracle.ALSO.to me this can NEVER replace real art.No machine will ever be able to produce the iideas of the human mind.It will never have that true beauty and detail that the human mind can produce.Hence my hobby of admiring true artwork.from real artists.In all it's different forms.The very fact that other artists are abusing me and sending horendous messages is heart breaking.They cannot grasp that I was and will always be one of them.I just have to do it differently now.Not out of choice.Who in the hell wants to be paralyzed and a zombie.Sucking straws to survive.If only they could grasp that.Thanks for the lovely reply.

I never considered AI as post-disability expression before, and that's certainly food for thought!

Your life seems very interesting. Could we hear more of your personal story? What virus did you catch, and when?

I love your ideas--early worm catching the bird is a great concept!

That is a story I intend to publish here in the future.But for now a tiny short.I was a workaholic.Good business.Doing well.Doctors told me to slow down.I ignored them.I went on a diving holiday WORKING as their instructor,I caught a tropical virus.Within 2 weeks i was paralyzed,Brain damaged,Spent about 70% of last 14 yrs in hospital.Mostly unconscious.Lost most memories,All skills,Cannot spell correctly or think the same way as i once could.A mans thoughts inside but ezpressed by a 10 yr olds way of thinking if you can understand that.Lost my business and everything i had except for a small cottage i purchased to use for holidays.Now I live here.Middle of nowhere with my wife and 2 sons who both have autism.My wife and my daughter are both nurses.The only time I ever relaxed was when i was sketching.A habit from childhood.A habit I miss terribly.No matter where you go or what your doing there is always something to sketch.Draw in your words.Sketch to me.The reason for the blog is to get a wheelchair to get OUTSIDE.To see the world around me again.An artist who cannot see the world around them.Can you grasp that thought.I don't want to offend real artists with Ai.I understand their point of view.Ai is a curse to them.Sadly they are right to be angry.But to me it's all i have left.I would much prefer to be outside sketching again.I live in a place artists dream of.Anyway.thats a very short account of my story.Sorry it's childish and probly hard to understand.Christy

ai user 💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

Hi.I understand your view.Now understand mine.I WAS an artist.Now i am 99% paralyzed.But i still have all my ideas and pictures in my head.Ai helps me to bring those ideas to life.THINK.I have nothing else.NOTHING.am I not entitled to still create.Or should I sit looking out the window praying for it to just end.Ai.saved me.It gave me a way to communicate and share all i have seen.Should i feel guilty for that.As an artist that i presume you are.You tell ME.should I just Die.Or be grateful for a new way to continue doing something I love so much.

sorry but I have to ask, why did you like my post about not sharing content to AI when you're an AI "artist" ?

I get being disabled and having a hard time making art, but that "art" is already warped and stolen from artists who put hours of physical labor into it... so why do you need to know how to protect yours?

The AI made it. It already has it.

Not to mention YOU are part of the problem. Just by using the programs and showing the developers that another user is making content with their dirty tools they don't have a reason to stop making it a problem for real artists.

I was an artist.Mainly sketch and not brilliant.But i have travelled the world and have drawings of everywhere i went.Now i ask you too think.I cannot draw anymore.BUT i still have all those images and ideas in my head.Ai helps me to bring those ideas to life.I have been denied ever walking again,ever holding a cup of coffee.ever speaking again,ever doing anthing again,I understand your point of view as an artist.hence i liked your post.BUT you also have to understand mine.Am i no longer even entitled to express myself through my art.Yes it's Ai.But not everything is evil.I respect your view.Please understand and respect mine.Thanks and Respect.Christy.Ps.I would like a reply.I respected you with one.

Irish Mythology

VOL 8. Cliodhna. Queen of the Banshees.

Clíodhna: Queen of the Banshees

In the verdant hills of South Munster, where the veil between our world and the Otherworld is gossamer-thin, Clíodhna reigned supreme. Her ethereal beauty was whispered across the emerald landscapes, and her name echoed in the rustling leaves of ancient oaks. But Clíodhna was no ordinary banshee; she was a goddess entwined with both sorrow and desire.

The Three Birds of Clíodhna:

Three birds accompanied Clíodhna—a trio of feathered emissaries whose plumage shimmered like rainbows. Their melodious songs held the power to heal, and their wings bore them across the realms. These avian companions feasted on apples from an otherworldly tree, their beaks stained crimson by the fruit’s magic. When they sang, the air itself danced to their tune, and mortals who heard their harmonies were blessed or cursed, depending on fate’s whims.

The Forbidden Love:

Clíodhna’s heart, though steeped in mystery, was not immune to love. Her gaze fell upon Ciabhán, a mortal man of courage and grace. Ciabhán’s eyes mirrored the sea, and his laughter echoed through the cliffs. When he hunted in the forests, Clíodhna would wait for him by the shore, her silver hair catching moonbeams. Their clandestine meetings transcended the boundaries of existence—a banshee and a mortal, entangled in a love that defied the cosmic order.

Manannán Mac Lir’s Music:

One fateful evening, as Clíodhna lay on the rocky shore, lulled by the rhythmic waves, Manannán Mac Lir, the enigmatic Sea God, emerged from the depths. His harp strings sang of forgotten memories, of lost cities beneath the waves, and of love that spanned millennia. Clíodhna listened, her heartstrings resonating with each haunting note. Manannán’s melodies summoned a colossal wave—the very essence of Tonn Chlíodhna, “Clíodhna’s Wave.” It rose, a liquid titan, and swept her away.

The Diverging Legends:

Legends diverge at this juncture. Some say Clíodhna drowned, her form merging with the ocean’s embrace. She became the guardian of shipwrecks, her mournful cries echoing through storms. Others insist that she transformed into a swan, her feathers iridescent, her song both melancholic and hopeful. As a swan, she glided upon the waves, her eyes reflecting the moon’s silver path.

Carrig-Cleena: The Palace Beneath the Sea:

Her palace, hidden within a pile of ancient rocks near Mallow, bore her name—Carrig-Cleena. Its walls shimmered like mother-of-pearl, and its halls resonated with the whispers of lost lovers. Clíodhna’s memory lingered in the salt-laden air, in the cries of seabirds, and in the hearts of those who dared to listen. The Blarney Stone, kissed by countless pilgrims seeking eloquence, was said to have formed from a fragment of Clíodhna’s magical rock.

And so, Clíodhna, Queen of the Banshees, dances between realms—a paradox of love and lamentation. Her story, like the sea, remains both mysterious and eternal, etched into the cliffs and carried by the tides.

Note: Clíodhna’s tale is a delicate thread woven into Ireland’s rich mythology, a reminder that love transcends even the boundaries of life and death.

Christy,

Male, Husband, Dad, Family man, Friendly, Easygoing.

Dad's [ Christy ]Electric Wheelchair Fundraiser.

Please only help to support me if you can afford too.

Otherwise please help yourself to my artwork.

It'is genuinely FREE for everyone to download and enjoy.

Just click the Buy me a coffee.It's my artwork Shop.

1000's of Pics.New pic's added every day.

FREE artwork drawings 3d images for all occasions.

Buy me a Coffee https://www.buymeacoffee.com/myfrontdoor .

Paypal donate https://www.paypal.com/donate/?hosted_button_id=UQD48H4SCEEPE .

Patreon support https://www.patreon.com/MyFrontDoor .

NightCafe Ai.

New catagory in my Wheelchair fundraiser.

TROLL's. Who does'nt love Troll's

I supply free items in the form of Artwork and a host of other material.

All items are available for download only

Christy,

Male, Irish, Dad, Family man, Friendly, Easygoing.

Hi Guys.

1st about me. In short.I caught a deadly virus. I'm now severely disabled with some cognitive disfunction.BUT I'm not giving up.Into Nightcafe Ai and other Ai generators.I was a builder,A scuba diver,Hill walker,Sports charity supporter.[Run,Swim,Raft race etc to raise funds] A gardener and anything to do with outdoors.Love animals of all kinds.Family man and loved to chat with anyone.Every nation,Every country,Every people.I loved speaking to everyone. I'm Irish and we call it loving the banther,ie The Craic and the Chat.

Now.

I'm trying to create something To raise funds for a new electric Wheelchair and hopefully something that makes people smile & brightens their day. If one person laughs.Everyone around them smiles.It.s lovely. It's like a good virus.

If by some Miracle I raise these funds.

Any extra funds will be donated to the S.V.D.P.

St Vincent De Paul for families and people in dire need of help.

They are a wonderful charity in need of our support.

PLEASE. Help me with ideas and thoughts to achieve this goal. I will read & take every bit of help I can get.Everyone is welcome to help.

Thanks Guys.Christy.

NOW.

Thank you for supporting my Store. All of my content is completely FREE.

If anyone would like to contribute and support my store. There are some easy to use donation links below. I hope you enjoyed my stores content.

©MyFrontDoorMedia.

Buy me a Coffee https://www.buymeacoffee.com/myfrontdoor .

Paypal donate https://www.paypal.com/donate/?hosted_button_id=UQD48H4SCEEPE .

Patreon support https://www.patreon.com/MyFrontDoor .

I personally wondered why some mythological and fokloric spirits and beings were somehow implied to be autistic. (before autism was known) Following through on deals even when it'll put them at a disadvantage, being either severely rule-oriented or downright chaotic, predictably unpredictable, taking everything you say literally.

Do you think there's any reasoning behind this? Or is it just a coincidence that an awful lot of European folklore and mythos has this going on?

People in Ireland and Europe were very isolated from outsiders.What i mean is they were very poor,there was no outside communication,for poor people.This was deliberate by people with power to control the masses,Keep them afraid of everything from outside.Anyone not from their own area or DIFFERENT was too be feared.The Church helped to promote these ideas so that they could also control their own flocks.BUT you also have to make them believe they are superior to everyone else..Why would anyone want to move or contact inferiors.This is a very,vert short explanation of a much bigger story.Anyone different,Anyone not exactly like you.Including people you know who don't act like you or seem different are inferior and possibly dangerous.Fear the unknown.Only trust us with power and your church.

New catagory availagle in my wheelchair fundraiser.

Funny Faces & People.

I supply free items in the form of Artwork and a host of other material.All items are available for download only

Christy,

Male, Irish, Dad, Family man, Friendly, Easygoing.

Hi Guys.

1st about me.

In short.I caught a deadly virus. I'm now severely disabled with some cognitive disfunction.BUT I'm not giving up.Into Nightcafe Ai and other Ai generators.I was a builder,A scuba diver,Hill walker,Sports charity supporter.[Run,Swim,Raft race etc to raise funds] A gardener and anything to do with outdoors.Love animals of all kinds.Family man and loved to chat with anyone.Every nation,Every country,Every people.I loved speaking to everyone. I'm Irish and we call it loving the banther,ie The Craic and the Chat.

Now.

I'm trying to create something To raise funds for a new electric Wheelchair and hopefully something that makes people smile & brightens their day. If one person laughs.Everyone around them smiles.It.s lovely. It's like a good virus.

If by some Miracle I raise these funds.

Any extra funds will be donated to the S.V.D.P.

St Vincent De Paul for families and people in dire need of help.

They are a wonderful charity in need of our support.

PLEASE.

Help me with ideas and thoughts to achieve this goal. I will read & take every bit of help I can get.Everyone is welcome to help.

Thanks Guys.Christy.

NOW.

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Irish Celtic Mythology.

VOL 7. Oillipheist the Irish Dragon Serpent.

The Oilliphéist: Guardian of the Murky Waters

In the heart of Ireland, where the veil between the mortal realm and the Otherworld grew thin, there existed a place both feared and revered—the shores of Lough Neagh. Its waters, like darkened mirrors, held secrets older than memory itself. And at the heart of those depths slumbered a creature of legend—the Oilliphéist.

The Origins of the Oilliphéist:

The druids whispered that the Oilliphéist was born from the primordial chaos, a serpent forged in the forge of forgotten gods. Its scales shimmered like midnight stars, each one etched with symbols of forgotten languages. Its eyes—two fiery orbs—held the knowledge of ages, and its breath carried the scent of distant lands.

The Curse of the Oilliphéist:

The villagers knew better than to venture too close to Lough Neagh. For the Oilliphéist demanded tribute—an offering of livestock, precious gems, or even a maiden’s hand. Those who dared defy it faced dire consequences. Their homes flooded, their crops withered, and their cattle vanished beneath the murky waves.

Generations passed, and the Oilliphéist’s wrath remained unyielding. Its coils, longer than the tallest oaks, circled the lake, binding it to its watery domain. The villagers whispered prayers to the old gods, seeking protection from the serpent’s malevolence.

Cian, the Brave Warrior:

But fate weaves strange patterns, and one day, a young warrior named Cian emerged from the mist. His sword, forged from the heart of a fallen star, gleamed with otherworldly light. Cian had heard the tales—the Oilliphéist’s curse, its insatiable hunger for tribute, and the sorrow it wrought upon the land.

Determined to free his people, Cian set forth. The water stirred as he approached, and the Oilliphéist’s eyes emerged—a pair of fiery orbs fixated on its challenger.

“Bold mortal,” hissed the serpent, its voice echoing across the water. “Why do you disturb my slumber?”

Cian stood firm. “Your reign of terror ends today,” he declared. “Release this land from your grip, or face my blade.”

The Battle Beneath the Waters:

The Oilliphéist laughed—a sound like distant thunder. “You think a mere sword can defeat me? I am older than the hills, older than the stars. I have seen empires rise and fall.”

But Cian was undeterred. He lunged, striking at the serpent’s scales. Yet each wound healed instantly, and the Oilliphéist coiled tighter, threatening to drag him under.

Desperate, Cian remembered an ancient incantation—a secret passed down from druid to druid. He chanted the words, invoking the power of the elements. The water churned, and the serpent writhed in agony.

“Enough!” roared the Oilliphéist. “I yield.”

The Oilliphéist’s Confession:

It uncoiled, revealing its true form—a creature of sorrow and longing. “Long have I guarded these waters,” it confessed. “A curse binds me here, and only a hero’s sacrifice can break it.”

Cian hesitated. “What sacrifice?”

“The heart of a true warrior,” whispered the serpent. “Plunge your sword into my breast, and the curse shall lift.”

Cian’s hand trembled as he drove the blade into the serpent’s chest. The waters surged, and the Oilliphéist dissolved into mist. The curse lifted, and Lough Neagh sparkled in the sunlight once more.

Legacy of the Oilliphéist:

Cian returned to the village, hailed as a hero. But he carried the memory of the Oilliphéist—the guardian of murky waters—forever etched in his soul. And so, the legend endured—a reminder that even monsters had stories, and sometimes, their fates were intertwined with our own.

And there, by the shores of Lough Neagh, the Oilliphéist’s tale lives on, whispered in the wind and reflected in the ripples of ancient waters.

Christy,

Male, Husband, Dad, Family man, Friendly, Easygoing.

Dad's [ Christy ]Electric Wheelchair Fundraiser.

Please only help to support me if you can afford too.

Otherwise please help yourself to my artwork.

It'is genuinely FREE for everyone to download and enjoy.

Just click the Buy me a coffee.It's my artwork Shop.

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Life always seems to do the unexpected.

The Early Worm catches the Bird.

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Funny creature Pic's mixup screensaver.Enjoy.

Christy,

Male, Husband, Dad, Family man, Friendly, Easygoing.

Dad's [ Christy ]Electric Wheelchair Fundraiser.

Please only help to support me if you can afford too.

Otherwise please help yourself to my artwork.

It'is genuinely FREE for everyone to download and enjoy.

Just click the Buy me a coffee.It's my artwork Shop.

1000's of Pics.New pic's added every day.

FREE artwork drawings 3d images for all occasions.

Buy me a Coffee https://www.buymeacoffee.com/myfrontdoor .

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NightCafe Ai.

Funny creature Pic's mixup screensaver.Enjoy.

Christy,

Male, Husband, Dad, Family man, Friendly, Easygoing.

Dad's [ Christy ]Electric Wheelchair Fundraiser.

Please only help to support me if you can afford too.

Otherwise please help yourself to my artwork.

It'is genuinely FREE for everyone to download and enjoy.

Just click the Buy me a coffee.It's my artwork Shop.

1000's of Pics.New pic's added every day.

FREE artwork drawings 3d images for all occasions.

Buy me a Coffee https://www.buymeacoffee.com/myfrontdoor .

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Patreon support https://www.patreon.com/MyFrontDoor .

NightCafe Ai.

Funny Pic's Mixup Screensaver.Enjoy.

Christy,

Male, Husband, Dad, Family man, Friendly, Easygoing.

Dad's [ Christy ]Electric Wheelchair Fundraiser.

Please only help to support me if you can afford too.

Otherwise please help yourself to my artwork.

It'is genuinely FREE for everyone to download and enjoy.

Just click the Buy me a coffee.It's my artwork Shop.

1000's of Pics.New pic's added every day.

FREE artwork drawings 3d images for all occasions.

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Irish Celtic Mythology.

VOL 6 Abhartach the Dwarf King - The Irish VAMPIRE

The Legend of Abhartach

In the shadowed valleys of ancient Ireland, where mist clung to the gnarled oaks and legends whispered through the heather, there existed a chieftain named Abhartach. His name, meaning “dwarf,” belied the darkness that consumed his heart. Abhartach ruled over a desolate realm, a land where the sun dared not linger, and the moon itself seemed to shiver.

Abhartach was no ordinary ruler. His eyes held secrets—secrets that danced between life and death. His malevolence knew no bounds, and he reveled in the suffering of his subjects. The villagers trembled under his iron-fisted rule, their lives drained by his insatiable hunger for power.

But it was not merely earthly dominion that Abhartach sought. He wielded forbidden magic—the kind that twisted the fabric of reality. His very existence defied the natural order. When the moon waxed full, he would vanish into the ancient woods, chanting incantations that echoed through the hollows. And when he returned, his eyes glowed like embers, and his thirst for blood remained unquenched.

Cathain, a neighboring chieftain, could bear it no longer. His people suffered, their souls crushed by Abhartach’s maleficence. Cathain, fueled by courage and desperation, rallied his warriors. They marched toward Abhartach’s fortress, swords gleaming with resolve.

The battle unfolded—a clash of steel and ancient curses. Cathain fought with valor, each swing of his blade fueled by the collective anguish of the oppressed. Abhartach, however, was no ordinary foe. His wounds healed swiftly, and his laughter echoed across the blood-soaked moors.

Three times Cathain struck him down, and three times Abhartach rose again. The villagers watched in horror as the dwarf king emerged from his grave, his eyes aflame with hatred. The very earth seemed to recoil from his touch.

Desperate, Cathain sought the counsel of a wise druid. The old seer revealed the truth: Abhartach was one of the neamh-mairbh, the walking dead. To defeat him, Cathain needed more than mortal weapons. He required a yew-wood sword—anointed with moonlight—a burial upside down, thorny barriers encircling the grave, and a massive stone to seal it shut.

And so, Cathain faced Abhartach once more. With each blow, he drove the yew-wood blade into the dwarf’s heart. The earth drank Abhartach’s malevolence, and the villagers wept with relief. They buried him head down, thorns piercing the soil, and placed the colossal stone atop the grave.

Abhartach’s reign of terror ceased, but his legend endured. The laght—a sepulchral monument—still stands in the parish of Errigal, a grim reminder. Beware, for Abhartach’s thirst for blood may yet stir in the shadows, waiting for the next moonrise to break free.

And so, the tale of Abhartach echoes through the misty hills, a cautionary whisper to those who dare disturb the slumber of the undead.

Christy,

Male, Husband, Dad, Family man, Friendly, Easygoing.

Dad's [ Christy ]Electric Wheelchair Fundraiser.

Please only help to support me if you can afford too.

Otherwise please help yourself to my artwork.

It'is genuinely FREE for everyone to download and enjoy.

Just click the Buy me a coffee.It's my artwork Shop.

1000's of Pics.New pic's added every day.

FREE artwork drawings 3d images for all occasions.

Buy me a Coffee https://www.buymeacoffee.com/myfrontdoor .

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NightCafe Ai FREE New catagory Dragons.Pictures Drawings 3D images in my Buy Me A Coffee Wheelchair Fundraiser.

Christy,

Male, Irish, Dad, Family man, Friendly, Easygoing.

Hi Guys.

1st about me.

In short.I caught a deadly virus. I'm now severely disabled with some cognitive disfunction.BUT I'm not giving up.Into Nightcafe Ai and other Ai generators.I was a builder,A scuba diver,Hill walker,Sports charity supporter.[Run,Swim,Raft race etc to raise funds] A gardener and anything to do with outdoors.Love animals of all kinds.Family man and loved to chat with anyone.Every nation,Every country,Every people.I loved speaking to everyone. I'm Irish and we call it loving the banther,ie The Craic and the Chat.

Now.

I'm trying to create something To raise funds for a new electric Wheelchair and hopefully something that makes people smile & brightens their day. If one person laughs.Everyone around them smiles.It.s lovely. It's like a good virus.

If by some Miracle I raise these funds.

Any extra funds will be donated to the S.V.D.P.

St Vincent De Paul for families and people in dire need of help.

They are a wonderful charity in need of our support.

PLEASE.

Help me with ideas and thoughts to achieve this goal. I will read & take every bit of help I can get.Everyone is welcome to help.

Thanks Guys.Christy.

NOW.

This is NEW business me.

Thank you for supporting our Shop. All of our content is completely FREE.

If anyone would like to contribute and support our Shop. There are some easy to use donation links below. We hope you enjoyed our shops content. ©MyFrontDoorMedia.

Buy me a Coffee https://www.buymeacoffee.com/myfrontdoor .

Paypal donate https://www.paypal.com/donate/?hosted_button_id=UQD48H4SCEEPE .

Patreon support https://www.patreon.com/MyFrontDoor .

Buy Me A Coffee NEW Catagory for

MyFrontDoor Wheelchair Fundraiser

FREE Easter Scenes drawings pictures 3d images

I supply free items in the form of Artwork,Drawings,2D images and a host of other material.All items are available for download FREE

Christy,

Male, Husband, Dad, Family man, Friendly, Easygoing.

Dad's [ Christy ]Electric Wheelchair Fundraiser.

Only help to support me if you can afford too.

Otherwise please help yourself to my artwork.

It'is genuinely FREE for everyone to download and enjoy.

Just click the Buy me a coffee.It's my artwork Shop.

1000's of Pics.New pic's added every day.

FREE artwork drawings 3d images for all occasions.

Buy me a Coffee https://www.buymeacoffee.com/myfrontdoor .

Paypal donate https://www.paypal.com/donate/?hosted_button_id=UQD48H4SCEEPE .

Patreon support https://www.patreon.com/MyFrontDoor .

Irish Mythology

VOL 5 A Mermaid Sad Love Story

The Legend of Lí Ban

In the ancient days when the sea and land were closely intertwined, there lived a mermaid named Lí Ban. Her beauty was unmatched, and her voice could weave enchanting melodies that echoed across the waves.

Lí Ban was no ordinary mermaid. She possessed a magical red cap called the “cohuleen druith”, which allowed her to move freely between the depths of the ocean and the rocky shores. With her cap on, she could walk upon land as gracefully as she swam in the sea.

One fateful day, Lí Ban ventured too close to the shore. There, she caught sight of a young fisherman named Eochaidh. His rugged features and kind eyes captured her heart. Lí Ban watched him from the waves, her green tail shimmering in the sunlight.

Eochaidh, too, was entranced by the mysterious beauty in the water. He longed to know her name, to hear her sing. And so, he waited by the shore, hoping she would return.

Days turned into weeks, and Lí Ban and Eochaidh exchanged glances across the boundary of sea and land. Their silent connection deepened, and love blossomed between them. Lí Ban would emerge from the waves, her red cap concealing her mermaid form, and they would share stolen moments on the beach.

But love between a mortal and a mermaid was not without its challenges. Lí Ban knew that her time on land was limited. She could not stay forever, for her heart belonged to the sea. And Eochaidh, though smitten, could not follow her beneath the waves.

One stormy night, as the waves crashed against the cliffs, Lí Ban made a choice. She removed her magical cap and placed it gently in Eochaidh’s hands. Tears filled her eyes as she whispered, “Keep this safe, my love. It is my link to both worlds.”

Eochaidh vowed to protect the precious cap. But as Lí Ban returned to the sea, her tail transforming into shimmering scales, she knew their love was destined for heartache. She sang a mournful song, her voice carrying across the waves, bidding farewell to the man she loved.

Years passed, and Eochaidh grew old. He would sit by the shore, staring out at the horizon, waiting for Lí Ban’s return. But she never came. The magical cap remained in his possession, a bittersweet reminder of their love.

And so, the legend of Lí Ban lived on—a tale of forbidden love, sacrifice, and the enduring bond between land and sea. To this day, fishermen along the Irish coast claim they can hear her haunting melodies on stormy nights, carried by the wind and the waves.

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If Cabbages were people

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Blaze

5 notes

Irish Celtic Myths.

Vol 4

The Salmon of Knowledge . Myth 1 Fionn

Long ago when Fionn mac Cumhaill, the great leader of the Fianna of Ireland, was still a young boy he was sent to live with a very wise man named Finnegas. Finnegas was a poet who lived on the banks of the river Boyne and was renowned throughout Ireland for his vast knowledge. As well as being renowned for his skills in composing and reciting poetry Finnegas knew more about the ways of the world, including the secrets of the birds and animals and plants and stars, than other man in Ireland. It was because of his vast knowledge that Fionn had been sent to learn from Finnegas. Fionn loved to listen to the old man's wonderful stories and his many words of wisdom which he too, in time, would learn to recite. In exchange for the wisdom Finnegas would pass on to him, Fionn would help about the house, cooking, cleaning and fishing for the old man.However, despite Finnegas' vast knowledge, he did not know everything and there were times when Fionn's endless curiosity got the better of him, and he was left unable to answer the young boy's questions. ' Is there a way to know everything?' Fionn asked him. This was a question that Finnegas had asked once too and was the very reason why he now lived next to the river Boyne. It had been told by the druids of old that living in a still, dark pool in the shade of the overhanging hazel trees was the Salmon of Knowledge. It was as result of eating the nuts of these magical hazel trees that the Salmon had acquired all the knowledge of the world. And so it was that, according to prophecy, the one who would eat the Salmon would gain the

knowledge for themselves. Finnegas had been living on the edge of the river for several years now, attempting to catch the Salmon and gain such wisdom. It so happened that one day, not long after Fionn had come to study under him, Finnegas went fishing and finally caught the Salmon. 'I've caught it! I've caught it!,' he cried happily. He immediately reeled it in and ran up to Fionn with the Salmon in his arms. 'You must cook it straight away!' Finnegas ordered Fionn, dancing and skipping with excitement. As Fionn began to set up the fire and spit in order to cook the Salmon, Finnegas warned him, 'Cook it, but whatever you do, do not eat a single bit of it!' Fionn nodded and went about cooking the Salmon while Finnegas went to fetch some extra firewood.Upon his return Finnegas found the Salmon laid out and ready to eat. He looked at Fionn and thought he saw something different about him, as though the light of wisdom now shone in his eyes. 'Have you eaten any of the Salmon?' he asked Fionn anxiously. 'I have not!' Fionn replied. 'Have you tasted its skin?' he continued to enquire. 'I have not!' Fionn replied, 'but when I was turning it on the spit I burned my fingers, so I put my thumb into my mouth to ease the pain.

Finnegas' heart sank. 'That's enough!' he told Fionn, 'You have tasted the Salmon of Knowledge; in you the prophecy is fulfilled. You are the one who has gained all the knowledge of the world.' He then ordered Fionn to eat all of the Salmon. However, when Fionn was finished he realised he didn't feel much different nor did he feel any wiser than before. When he told this to Finnegas, Finnegas replied, 'If it was your thumb you first burnt, then place it in your mouth.' Fionn did as Finnegas suggested and immediately all the knowledge of the world rushed into his head. 'You must go now! There is nothing more I can teach you,' Finnegas informed him, 'You are destined to become a wise poet, warrior and leader.' And so it was that when Fionn grew up, he did indeed become a wise poet, warrior and leader. He became a great leader of the Fianna, the greatest band of warriors Ireland has ever known.

Dad's [ Christy ]Electric Wheelchair Fundraiser.

Only help to support me if you can afford too.

Otherwise please help yourself to my artwork.

It'is genuinely FREE for everyone to download and enjoy.

Just click the Buy me a coffee.It's my artwork Shop.

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