4.30am

4.30am

The dawn chorus. It bursts into life at whatever time and, just when you're awake with little chance of dropping back to sleep (yes, about 4.30am), it takes a break till later. I'm not a heavy sleeper and so, for...Read More
Not a good start

Not a good start

I drove WestIn the season between seasons.I left behind suburban gardens.Lawnmowers. Small talk.(White Hawthorn in the West of Ireland, Eavan Boland) On Monday evening I was shocked and quite upset when I heard that Eavan Boland had died. She was...Read More

Love

Still working with the blended pastel on rag paper idea but marrying it with some Celtic knotwork. I was looking for something romantic to write over it. And then I thought of Eavan Boland's poem Quarantine, about the famine. And...Read More