CARAGH LAKE HOUSE - ARTIST IN RESIDENCE
Last year I accepted an invitation to be Caragh Lake House's first ever artist in residence. Having never visited Ireland this was an exciting prospect and full of trepidation I find myself here, on the West Coast of Southern Ireland, in the heart of Ireland's mountainous area, experiencing it's finest mountain weather... Thankfully I am well experienced in such conditions and it wasn't going to beat me! Caragh Lake, beautiful, vast, peaty and metaphorically warm... I witnessed it at it's most tranquil and at it's most feisty. I loved the experience of forming a relationship with the lake devoid of human contact.
The work here was updated daily throughout the residency.
Dé Sathhairn
already I have blanked everything that came before.
I wanted to think it
feel it
be it.
the changing light
the waves
the crisp air
warm on my skin
playing games with my mind
I am in it
amongst storm debris
dancing with leaves and twigs
who cares about what came before?
Debris
Dé Domhnaigh
the weather has turned
torturous
feisty
beaten
battered
I took you on
You spat me out
pounding my head relentlessly
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Dé Luain
slightly
because I don’t always want to smile.
just a tiny bit.
‘Moon Day’ makes me grin a littleunnerving
are large boulders
submerged in the turbulence
alarm, panic and sheer relief comes in seconds.
I chased sunshine
temperatures dropped on my skin
heavy breathing
fighting the waves
Lough Caragh
you did make me smile.
Lough Caragh
Dé Máirt
Mars Day has been steely
wild
cold
wet
and ferocious.
It’s been for watching
waiting
listening
hibernating.
For chasing stories
feeling uneasy
and laughing at irony.
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Dé Céadaoin
Shit , I like this wind
the most alive I’ve felt all week
I want to run
I want to stretch out
I want to shout and swear
all my clothes are soaked
my hair is wet
so much power
so much noise
Sshhh...
Déardaoin
After every storm, there is a day of calm
the sun shines
the air is crisp
bitterly cold.
chasing light
she chased me away
whipping up her surface
reminding me who was in charge
she may look sweet
but underneath she's angry
boiling
burning
churning
Dé hAoine
the last day
is eerily quiet
those wild winds have all but disappeared.
I’m lost
un-located
packed and prepared
still procrastinating
still staring
watching and waiting
