At the top of the craggy hill, inside of the stone walled gate, is a small patch of Irish green, a few wooden picnic tables, with heavy stones in their centers to keep the ever blowing wind from sailing the menus up and across the burren and out over the wild Atlantic sea, and blue aproned Ana, who serves the best fish chowder Herself has ever tasted.
Sunday July 30 is the opening reception I’ll be rolling out the new work on this blog and on Facebook and Instagram, so I’ve got lots of fidgity computer work to fit in between the last few brushtrokes over the dwindling weeks in the next month. Gulp.
I just wanted you to know I’m still here. So, to get us started…I give you…
Black Irish – 32 x 48 This is Thomas’ horse Macy. They both live on the island of Inisoirr, off the Wild Atlantic Coast of Ireland.
I’ll fill you in on their story, and ours along the way, so stay tuned… for now, it’s back to the easel.
to spend at least 30% of the day in an upright position.
Which would triple the output of the last eleven days, wherein I crawled from daybed to nightbed, dragging boxes of tissues, bottles of medicine, and an increasingly bored bernese mt. dog.
I have managed the first 18% of that goal by throwing the contents of the kitchen and garden into a large pot, now simmering away with chicken soup. With a few breaks in between to sip some hot tea and cough up a lung, I am upright, sitting in the office chair, but basically upright, and catching up on the business that piled up while we were away in IRELAND !!!
The fairies were with us all the way, and they turned out to be the only two weeks since late July that I have been free of the plague. Brilliant !
I think the muses have grounded me upon my return so that I could linger in a foggy state and simply drift back to our time there and cement the whirlwind of images and experiences. It exceeded every single expectation, from the traveling companions, to the glorious weather that followed us, to the historical touchstones and meaningful connections, and on and on and on to the landscape and the people.
Here’s one of our favorites, An of Inis Oirr.
We spent a day on that smallest of the Aran Islands, with a bumpy wagon tour,a pint in the pub, a talk with Masie and Thomas, and Herself threw off her shoes and walked in the ocean. An, or Anya (I’m sure that spelling is not right) was the owner, waitress, chef at the little cafe at the top of the hill, just below the castle ruins. She fed us marvelous chowder and hot chocolate and smiled and laughed the afternoon away. Apparently Pat has wrangled a room in her B & B in exchange for light housework.
One of the bucket list items I got to cross off was buying a Bodhran, the Irish drum used in acoustic sessions, and it has just arrived here in grand shape from the little shop in Dingle. I did a bit of googling, and discovered that there is an annual Bodhran festival right there on the tiny island of Inis Oirr.
Already signed up to the mailing list. Bit of practice to do before I’m worthy of that group but we may take An up on her offer.
Be assured that this trip was a creative game changer and I’ll be sharing thoughts and images as they begin to move from the suitcase to the easel, but I am approaching that 30% threshold and I’ve got some paperwork to finish before this thing sits me back down.
It’s a bright sunny day here in the studio and I’m getting an early start but before I head to the easel here is a delightful video which I watched on my friend Peter’s Blog while sitting at the kitchen table pondering breakfast. Definitely worth the few minutes it takes to get lost among the cottages and the cupboards… ‘Tis a grand way to greet the day