The Consequence of Sequences: A Mother’s Day Meditation The other day, after a short debrief on my recent ground-sliding/kissing incident (which I, quite reasonably, blamed on tripping over another dimension’s guilty Leprechaun), my daughter exclaimed, “Mother, how on earth did you not think of the consequences?” (These aftereffects of roaming a dust devil-filled thrift shop.)I…
Author: phaedrasfables
“Beyond Binaries: Why Europe and Life Can’t Be Boxed In”
From German generals to quantum thinking, how old power games and new festivals reveal the absurdity of living by yesterday’s labels. “So, what do you do for a living?”It’s the kind of question that says more about the asker than the asked, polite little probe for status, intelligence, and, ultimately, whether you’re worth their time….
“1st May Day Musings on Masses and Manipulators”
Hoisting and Being Hoisted As mentioned in an earlier column, I once hoisted my neighbour from the curb—he looked as though he’d just gone twelve rounds with the garbage league. Yesterday, it was my turn. I was crossing the street, minding my own business, when a chorus of “oooohhhh” from across signalled that something had…
Blackout in Spain; A Field Report from the Flickering Edge
12:17 I was poised to publish a column on Estonia’s oldest freedom postal, a tiny, stubborn survivor of history that’s outlasted the attention span of even the savviest marketers. (I wasn’t surprised; I’ve been the unofficial ambassador for overlooked relics for years.) Then, as if on cue, my screen blinks: “No internet. Check your router.”…
Feasts, Flags, and Fictions
“Rather Turkish Than Papist” Of Orange Crowds, Thanksgiving Birds, and the Art of National Mythmaking and bullshit artist. When I was a child, every April 30th, the Netherlands would dissolve into a sea of orange. Queen’s Koninginnedag was more than a holiday; it was a national permission slip for exuberance. Streets became rivers of laughter,…
“Maps, Mothers, and the Modern Malaise”
Today’s world is a curious, sometimes comic, sometimes tragic theatre. Armed with technology that can summon the sum of human knowledge, teenagers still ask for directions to a football stadium, unable to use the Google Maps app in their hands. In the same breath, their peers bicker over the difference between a province and a…
Portraits, Paint, and the Perils of Being a Muse (and Sometimes a Witch)
How Old Magic Rekindles New Inspiration There are people who live one life in one place with one story. I am not one of those people. I have lived many lives—sometimes all in the same afternoon—and if there’s a thread running through them, it’s that I seem to leave a trail of art in my…
The Muse Manifesto
by Irena Phaedra, Professional Muse (and Occasional Witch) & vice versa Preamble: On the Perils and Pleasures of Being a Muse Let it be known: I did not apply for this position. There was no interview, no onboarding, no health insurance. One day, I was simply living—reading, laughing, perhaps stirring my coffee with a bit…
“Grifters, Griffins & Phoenix”
second part “And as the world scrolls and swipes through curated perfection, I wonder if there’s still a place for stories that carry the scent of ashes and the laughter of rebirth. Maybe that’s the real adventure now; showing up, unfiltered, in a world of filters.“ So my story doesn’t end there. It simply moults,…
“Honour Among Thieves & The False Morality of Legitimised Crime”
As a teenager, I was swept into a world that most people only glimpse in the margins of late-night news or the footnotes of family gossip. My grandmother’s new husband had a son—let’s call him the youngest black sheep—who seemed to have been born with a surplus of vision and a deficit of supervision at…
The C.O.M.C. Files 