This solitude encourages introspection

In daily life I tend to float on the surface, never really delving deeply into why I like certain things. Here without distractions there is time to rest awhile, to read the sleeve note on a piece of music and listen to it. The longer I am here the more introspective I become.

Sound is of the essence here – the wind masking the sound of the sea, the interminable rain, the aural tradition of storytelling. The roof of the studio is glass, great light, but a cacophony of sound in the rain. If I were a composer I would set it to music. The weather dominates everything. There is less wind this morning but a wall of thick mist coming in off the sea. I can hardly see anything. There is a soft dampness in the air, not sure if it is soft Irish rain or just the mist. I put the washing out anyway. It’s not drying inside so it might as well not dry outside in the fresh air! There are lots of horizontals, spikes and rounded forms rising up out of the sea

There is a spikiness creeping into these drawings, an edginess born of being on the edge, the edge of survival. Not me but the people who lived here in the past. A risk-taking entirely appropriate to the constant risk endured by the former inhabitants of these cottages.

I have definitely come out of my comfort zone into rawness.

Inny Strand

On this gray magically misty day I went to Inny Strand which is the other side of the bay so I was looking at a back view of the islands I can see from my cottage. It was deserted and very beautiful. The colours were exquisitely subtle, perfect for painting colour greys. I just soaked up the atmosphere and photographed two found drawings on the beach.

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