Blog written 25th June early morning
I have woken feeling bright, energetic and full of excited anticipation for making. What is it about being an artist that revives the soul and invigorates the mind and body? Is it because of the inherent need to create? Are artists responding to their genetic code? Or is it because artists choose to listen to their inner creative voice more than others? And by responding to a subconscious desire we automatically feel fulfilled and enriched?
After seeing a large pile of sheep fleeces abandoned and wet alongside one of the island tracks I started thinking about the commerciality of living and the need for currency in order to exist. Islanders here led a simple life and yet still maintained (and needed) a trading relationship with the mainland. At its most potent, the economy on Inishlacken thrived. The fish, wool and boat building industry [today the word 'industry' implies big business unlike on Inishlacken, which would have been small] provided much needed commodities. But now, as in many parts of the world today, fish are caught only when quota's allow, boat building is not a viable business and the fleece of a sheep is worthless.
These thoughts form the basis for Memorial to the Islanders II, a performance piece incorporating the fleeces from the sheep of Inishlacken.
Rosie and Una agree to film and shoot stills and the performance is scheduled for later in the day. The weather is wonderful, hot and sunny with a light breeze – perfect. Phil warns me to watch out for ticks in the fleece. It's not advice I relish although I am grateful to him never the less.
The piece goes off ok, its hard to tell when you are the performer. Una seems pleased with the view through the video lens. I will wait until I return home to Suffolk to pass judgment. The video editing will give me ample chance to analyze every second!
We sunbathe afterwards and chat and I feel the skin on my arms begin to burn. The sand is white and the sea an amazing blue, more reminiscent of the Mediterranean than the Atlantic. This is truly an idyllic place on a day like today.
