Kerry

Dead Sheep, bridges and rocks,…..I like rocks.

On The Weekends We are Free..

We all have our secrets, But Mr Richardson doesn't

St Christophers Bell

Spotted this effigy on the bell of one of our old bikes; St. Christopher, the patron Saint of travel.

Mother in Orange

'Mary, Mary, not quite so contrary,

How does your garden grow?

With Holy bells and mustard-seed shells,

And praying blue maids all in a row…'

You Lost Her..

'Still..You lost her, but I forgot her.'
Found photo, blackout poem, and shards from broken pit-fired pot.

Slowly but surely the different elements of my work which are always very much separate are quietly coming together.
I've become more aware how much the 'found object' is apart of my practice and am using it more and more; constantly collecting and putting together little sculptures and such.
Hopefully this is all leading to something great…

Limerick Dog Show, 2015

I went to the Limerick Dog Show at the Woodlands Hotel Yesterday. As always it is a feast for the eyes; lots of wonderful dogs and their eccentric owners. Here are some photos I took with the digital, photos on film will follow at some point.

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Abridged Zero - 47: A Many Splintered Thing

I had a poem published in Abridged Zero Magazine which accompanied an exhibition at Void Gallery in Derry, 'A Many Splintered Thing.' The below poem, which is untitled accompanies a photo by Irena Popova from her series Anfisa's Family.

'I can deal with none of this,

Yet….If I can bear it a while longer,

I will hear her soul.'

Needles to say I am very excited about this opportunity. I found the paragraph for the open call wonderful and a delight to be able to respond to. Here it is below:

Love is a Many Splintered Thing – Andrew Eldritch

“while everywhere love is breathing draftily” – Frank O’Hara

'Our sense of love is conjured vaguely in our sleep, without sound or alphabet, by the mixing of smells of our particular detergent, of breakfast crumbs, of tired bodies in tired bedsheets. Its potent moments are dissolved into our days and disseminated among the many, becoming the domestic dust that falls and fills the little crevices of our existence. The constant expansion of time drags against the climactic instants of love and their fullness. We are not accustomed to complete fullness, and do not have the capacity to sustain it. Love therefore must splinter into our long quotidian days. We must fluctuate lest we are to die from love and its devastating totality. We must choose to erupt with its moments, or to survive by allowing it to splinter and fray like a twisting rope. You will find it in your pocket like lint – it is the gunk in the cracks between the things we are sure of seeing, the gunk between the senses. You could call it love when you find yourself picking parts of another person from your skin, particles that have been wedged into your pores like soil or grime under your fingernails. It is the still morning light that bleaches our senses so we can really see the pimpled mossy stuff of love in its stark mundanity. Love is the nesting of a self within another, when duality glints into oneness. It is a closing in. We move closer and closer to the truth, and the inevitable falsities which become the essential truths. We move closer and closer until we cannot see wholes but only splintering fragments.'

To view the PDF online version please click here

Abridged were kind enough to send me two copies of the magazine, one for me and one to share! But the covers are different, how ever shall I choose!

Vanessa Donoso Lopez

I went to Limerick City Gallery of Art and saw the exhibition, Eye before e, except after see by the Artist Vanessa Donoso Lopez. It was one of the most enjoyable and inspiring exhibitions I have seen in a while. Below are some images from the installation.