Back into the normal routine now, its been several months since I left the island. I have so far managed to stick to quite a few of my resolutions, in particular the reading, drawing, looking and walking. I have made some new work and am still distilling the Inishlacken experience. I have to write a proposal for the forthcoming show in Galway Arts Centre that will showcase all the artists who have been on the island over the past eight years. At least I think this is correct. Rethinking it, I guess not ALL of the artists will show work. My proposal is late – it was requested three weeks ago – but I have only made a tentative start to date and knowing my way of working this is because the ideas are not yet fully formed in my head and like all good things they will happen when they are ready and cannot be forced.
Am I making excuses? probably …
Could I write the proposal now? Yes, but it would not be as detailed as I would like.
Should I get on with it instead of writing this Blog?
YES
Blog written 26th June 2007 from Roundstone on the mainland
So now I am writing fom the rocks to the edge of shell beach looking across the sea toward Inishlacken. I can see the beach, the schoolhouse, Finklater’s cottage, the harbour and Deer Island beyond.
How do I feel? A little sad yet full of resolve to learn from my experience and determined to try to keep a little of Inishlacken with me wherever I am. I would like to be able to reproduce the feeling of total immersion in my work and the thinking processes that lead to ideas and making. Of course I have made resolutions like this before after period of intense activity (with varied success) but this time will be DIFFERENT! I have reached some decisions however, and having had uninterrupted time to consider I feel very secure in them. So here goes…..
I am not going to make an application to do a PhD for at least a couple more years
I intend to make more applications to do more residencies now that the children are older and I can actually get away
I am going to market my work more aggressively, being less timid and fussy and allowing work in progress, failures and, you never know, successes to be seen.
I am going to do more walking
I will spend more time looking
I will spend more time drawing
I will read more – and instead of buying tomes through amazon on visual communication or philosophy (and then never quite finishing them) I will read a variety of things, novels, poetry, essays, etc.
There, I have now written this down for all to see and so it is a bit of a statement, a weight watchers/alcoholics anonymous declaration. I am not sure how long I will keep this blog live but I guess my final item on the list should be to return to this text and re-read it to strengthen my resolve.
Flying home tomorrow. The next entry will be from England and back in blog realtime.
Blog written 26th June, 9.50am
Woke up this morning in the cottage in Roundstone feeling very hot. The central heating system seems over zealous! I have become acclimatised to island life and sleeping in a draughty shed. Strangely although my shower last night was unbelievably fantastic, refreshing and cleansing, I am now yearning for the very REALNESS of the island and the way I felt so vital and alive there in spite of the basic facilities and lack of water. Thoughts of lying awake, hunkered down in my sleeping bag, wind and rain circulating the shed outside have become memories and as such a great loss, the result of which is an overwhelming, engulfing sadness.
On waking I read several pages of the book by Tim Robinson, Connemara, Listen to the Wind. It contains many references and uses the Irish language, which has its roots in Celtic and/or North African language. Of couse it was the english around 1200 that chose to impose the anglicised versions of Gaelic onto this country – evidence of empire building? At that time it was punishable to use the Irish version of place names.Yet here today in Connemara the accents are broad and the native tongue frequently heard. Young people now learn Irish at school and teachers are expected to be fluent enough to teach using the traditional tongue.
Blog written just before leaving the island
It is strange to be leaving. I have grown accustomed to the pace and way of life here. The relaince on nature and natural cycles of light, dark, wind, rain which become the order by which life is dictated. So quickly one falls into a different pattern of living. Now I am wondering how easy it will be to slip back into the world at home with emails, phones, modern stressful living, flushing loos, and plentiful water.
Because we are leaving a day early I will have some time to spend on the mainland, to acclimatise back into civilisation.
Blog written 25th June 2007, late afternoon
The majority of the artists have left – a boat came at 1.30 to collect them and it is possible that the remaining few of us will also leave tonight as the wind shows no sign of abating. This is a day earlier than planned. Understandably Rosie knows the risks that the weather presents and the very real possibility of being trapped on the island when supplies have run out. Some have flights to catch tomorrow evening.
In the short lull between boats I have managed to make the final memorial piece (IV). This is a releif as I had planned to make it tomorrow on the last day here but our premature departure has dictated different plans.
I decided to place the cairn on the highest part of the island, visible from east, west and north. Using stone dotted around the hill leading up to the site I hope the piece is both reminiscent of a walker's mark to signify reaching a hilltop but also references the Irish Celtic tradition of cairns or cenotaphs as memorials to the lost. Mine is (and by neccesity) simple – unlike those that sport heavily decorative work such as found on the Aran Islands.
The third memorial (Candles) is now impossible to perform. Too much wind and no longer a dark evening as a backdrop to the piece. Its not a problem though – it gives me a reason to return here.
