There are a number of places which, when you’re there, you never want to leave. The cool marble and tinkling fountains of the Alhambra; Rome, where Henry James’ greatest heroine ‘dropped her secret sadness into the silence of lonely places where its very modern quality detached itself and grew objective’; New York City in winter, looking out at the snow-filled garden of the Frick mansion from a room hung with Rembrandts.
On a different scale, I’d now add Great Blasket Island off the western coast of Eire. Uninhabited since the early 1950s and dotted with tiny stone cottages in various states of disrepair, the island is a place of enormous beauty and a gentle melancholy. Surrounded by the Atlantic with its ever-changing blues and greens, Great Blasket is virtually cut off from the Dingle peninsula during the winter months when the ocean becomes a fierce adversary. It was the winter isolation with a tragic consequence that finally drove its tiny population from this unlikely paradise.
Some descendents of the Blasket Islanders are renovating and restoring the houses now. Walls are being rebuilt and roofs replaced and a hilltop cafe serves possibly the worst tea you’ll drink in Ireland. In the early years of the last century a number of inhabitants wrote books about their experiences living here which I’m sure are well worth reading, but you don’t really need to.
Just walk down to the beach with its pungent, lolling seals and look out across the ocean which, even on a peaceful summer’s day, peaks and troughs around the coastline. Between you and America there’s nothing but these temperamental waters, stretching away for over 6,000 kilometers. Put yourself in the shoes of those Islanders living on lobster and rabbit and burning peat for warmth; imagine writing your stories or tuning your fiddle by candlelight, a winter storm thrashing at your windows and around your thatched roof. Consider all of that and tell me this isn’t a paradise of sorts where things detach themselves and grow objective.
I’ve been involved in making collages lately, using cut-up pieces of unwanted paintings, as a sort of palate cleanser (apologies, there was no way to avoid the pun) before beginning the task of rethinking the way I paint. There’s something satisfying about finding those corners where a brush stroke takes on true character or a line of charcoal intersects a block of pigment in an exciting way. Building those pieces up into something new is such a thrill. This particular one tries to evoke that feeling of walking to the sea along a lonely cliff path.
More over on Instagram.
My heartfelt thanks to SO’R, PM, SB and IB for making it possible for me to visit Great Blasket last weekend.
I want to visit the Great Blasket. Also: digging the blue and blue. That is an inviting collage.
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Thanks, Kirk, it’s such a magical place.
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Michael,
All of your blogs are such a joy to read. A treat to enjoy during a quiet moment and full of inspirations. So look forward to the next Julia
Sent from my iPhone
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Dear Julia, thank you so much. Mx
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One of my favorite ways to use a not-quite-happy work of art. These colors are wonderful. This looks like an icon or an altar. (K)
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Thank you so much, Kerfe. You always manage to see something in the things I do that I would never claim for myself!
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Thanks! I like when that happens to my art too.
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This is a beautiful piece of writing and collage. Such a joy to read and see. Thank you 🙂
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Thank you, Rosie, and apologies for not responding sooner. Your comment and some others suddenly ended up in my spam folder for some reason. I’m so pleased you like the piece and the collage. Mx
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Oh I get problems with the spam folder from time to time. Actually having problems with real Spam at the moment. Had some for tea and now it’s killing me. Acid reflux in the early hours. That’ll teach me 😁
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Gosh, does Spam still exist? Full marks for daring!
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Seared Spam with smashed avocado and rocket on slices of wholemeal Bloomer. Rocking it 21st century style 😁. Gave me some gip though.
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Posh Spam! Even more impressive!
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Oh yesssssss! 😄
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What an extraordinary place, how lovely to be able to spend time there Michael. I do love how the marks on the collage pieces really come alive the way you’ve arranged them 😊
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Thanks ever so much Phil. Collaging painted papers is my new favourite thing! The island was truly magical: there was such a sense of presence there even though it has been uninhabited for half a century. A remarkable place.
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This is wonderful. I love the combination of textures and colors. I also do a lot of upcycling of old art and I find it frees me up when I’m making something because it never has to be “done”
What a remarkable place. It seems like a great place for solace and inspiration.
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Thank you, Jeanette. That’s very true – also nothing is ever wasted! The island was truly remarkable. I’m sure it’s atmosphere will stay with me forever.
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You have a gift with words as well as paint. They both sing out!
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Thank you so much. Greatly appreciated.
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