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?

  Dé Domhnaigh

 

the weather has turned

 

torturous

feisty

beaten

battered

I took you on

You spat me out

pounding my head relentlessly

 

Dé Luain

slightly
because I don’t always want to smile.
just a tiny bit.
‘Moon Day’ makes me grin a little
unnerving 
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.

  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.

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

  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

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