About
My work of traditional storytelling with verse, song, traditional and original, takes me primarily to non public access events such as schools, mostly to do with ethnology, cultural education, i.e. expressive arts, language, history and other associated heritage and literary circles. The public access events that I perform in are usually arts or heritage festivals in theatre, on ships, in marquees, heritage sites, hospitality events in hotels, and even on the streets.
The diversity of my presentations are expressed in the original rhyming biog, below this video:
Original Rhyming Biog - STOC (1997)
Yon Lady o'Lawers did proclaim
"A day would be at hand
when the feather o' the goose would drive
that memory from man"
What could she mean by such a saying.
How did it come to pass
or spy did she sae sic' a thing,
up through her looking glass?
Why has man in such a state,
been left without a mind,
or want to re-open that gate
and take a look behind?
Where now are those who "progress'' has,
not at any time,
held back them from genteel regress,
for days o' auld lang syne?
Can we now find such an one,
the quill has not scratched out,
that father time won't overcome,
whose mind's eye he could not route?
Who is this one that builds the brig,
from days of old till now,
by songs and tales aye ere sae big,
from those that worked the plough?
Where then is he whose line is straight,
back to the kings of old,
whose pedigree he can relate,
to Hebrideans bold?
In Perthshire's hills, he can be found.
His voice declaims the land
and those that walked the very ground
Bravehearts whose names shall stand
the test o' time, no man can break;
Generations o' the true.
The gallant ones he lifts to fame.
True Scots! o' tartan hue.
His name proclaims old royalty,
o' Gaels whose word would bind
great integrity wi' loyalty.
Sae scarce now for tae find
Paraig MacNeil is his name
A Scottish Traditional-
Oral Custodian who keeps the flame
Celtic and national.
But STOC itself means many things
in Paraig's native tongue:
a stock, a root, a stump a post,
pillar or sounding horn,
a trumpet, a family or a race,
forebears, wealth or store,
capital, cattle, cards with ace,
a cravatt or rudder's core,
a main part of any wooden frame,
base of a spinning wheel,
a stock o' bag-pipe o' great fame,
and deck or ship's gunwhale.
Such symbols these o' kith and kin,
are spun within his lore.
From cradle on, he did begin
to gather up his store,
o' tales o' elves and fairy ones,
that tell of elements
and spell of race of first nations.
For this that they were meant.
Of seal-folk who were stuck betwix
the dry land and the sea
that speak against man's predudice :
A moral legacy.
And place names aye all' round about
that bring the land to life,
auld brigs and plains o' battle front
and songs to sound o' pipes.
He tells o' plight o' ancient Celts
as through old Spain they came.
From Eirinn's Isle to Argyll's west
when Milidh's sons did claim
the land that we now call our home
won for us by the Gael,
and ancient heroes of that throne,
who in Ireland had prevailed
Of Fionn MacCumhail, and Oscar's Sword,
Ossian's verse has made known
and Diarmaid brave of the love spot,
from whom a clan has grown.
Of St Colum who from Eirinn came,
as did the crowning stone,
Of St. Fillan and the Dewars name;
the famed custodians.
And Norsemen o' the golden locks,
who split the waves with prow,
o'er rageing sea like rocking horse,
as Gunns and Clan MacLeod.
A cultural time-traveller ,
is Paraig in his plaid
O' seamless garb, o' warp an' weft,
O' yarns that ne'er will fade.
O' tartan truths from time of old.
Thoough Clan heraldic badge,
yet do unite the men sae bold
O' Caledonia.
O' the struggle for his people to
remain a sovereign race.
wi' fight against oppression cruel;
brave Moray, Wallace
O' martial clansmen of the Gael,
who stood firm by the cause
O' Scotland's right as told in tale,
to be as she once was.
O' Jacobites of liberty,
as James's crown they hailed
O' human rights,
fraternity, and freedom to prevail.
O' clearances and broken hearts,
that span the ocean wide.
The disposessed who left these parts;
forced to the other side.
He tells of tales o' wise fools too,
that teach us not to judge,
with riddles, rhymes and proverb true:
Auld wisdom ye can trust.
And ancedotes tae mak ye howl
wi' laughter through the night
Daft dittys handed tae him; down,
some he himself did write.
Many's a yarn for wee ones he
will tell within their schools
or ceilidhs, parties; eons has he
o' tales for these wee souls.
And workshops too, for memory's
expression to improve,
and ethics o' the Celtic Race;
impart he will to you.
Honorary Bard and Seanchaidh
for Clan Gregor too is he.
In Gaelic is the verse he makes,
to praise that noble seed.
His own verse has oft been acclaimed,
in Scots and English too.
A new voice on the carrying stream,
for tradition to live through.
In rhyming couplets he's composed
eleven thousands lines
in monie tongues such epic odes
click here on-line to find
True cultural ambassador
is Paraig for his race;
Wi' hands that reach out o'er the world,
for others to embrace.
Nae place that Paraig cannie gang.
His ceilidh's on the move.
In Wales, Ireland or Switzerland,
he's brought his culture true.
Be it Scotland or America,
he has pioneered the front,
at country fairs or story-clubs,
or Gaelic Feis abroad.
Frae misty Isles, tae Glagow toon,
in Bun Sgoiltean he's been.
in primary and in high schools,
he's no stranger to the scene.
In Cal-Mac's Ferry Festival,
at Mayfest by the Clyde
Edinburgh's International
and Fringe he has shone bright.
From Seafood Fest in Eyemouth south,
to Anstruther o'er in Fife
tae gigs aroon the Granit town;
tae Belfast's Seacat howfs,
Folk Festivals, Fairs and clan trysts
and monuments o' fame.
Historic Scotland, and National Trust,
are equal with his name.
At college campus he can teach,
imparting all his skills,
reversing trend, repairing breach
society has built.
On screen and on the radio,
he is no stranger there.
He's been spotlighted on the shows,
ethnothology to bear.
He's not unknown at poetry Fests,
to weld those arts so fine.
His seemless plaid o' warp an' weft,
he weaves them in wi' twine.
He's worked with folk of other arts,
who sing, speak act and mime.
Those who pipe, fiddle and dance,
who in unity can chime.
With painters, sculptors, cellists,
the Saxephone and drum,
with flautists, concertinaists,
or whistler wi' the trump.
But his own voice is aye weel kent,
wi' lament to working song,
Puirt a'bheul, lays, and incitement
and panygerics aye sae long.
His repertoire o' songs and tales,
genealogies and rhymes,
wi' riddle and proverb in all,
is aye a thousand and besides.
To bring this Celt; indigenous,
into your very place,
who'll tell and sing of his great race,
go to the contact page
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Please note: Would all those booking or engaging Paraig MacNeil, please note that since he is a tradition-bearer, who endeavours to represent his national culture in an authentic manner, to show respect for it, and its time-honoured values.
