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all things pass
The stones of the ruined church are warmed by the setting sun, giving it a temporary Hollywood glow despite its location in Galway, on a cold February day. The gate squeaks as she walks in, camera in hand, eager to capture the picturesque as the sky prepares for its transition to night. Despite living in the area for a long time she had not visited this church before, and now she realises there is a graveyard attached. She is fond of graveyards – they a familiar, comforting, presence. When she was a child she played in one close to her house. Sometimes she’d visit it at night, perch upon a…
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the house
Only a shell of the house remains. A thick pelt of ivy crawls over its exterior so even the dead windows are mere slits in its green tangle. Inside, colonies of jackaws nest and roost. Watchful sentries are posted about the house’s gnarled crown, and in surrounding trees. At your approach they rise, a raucous shout from its dark throat, and spit out in a black cough across the sky. Their wings beat above your head as you step into the shadow cast by their abode. The silence as you pass through the darkness is the resentful reproach of the disturbed.
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lonely spaces
Recently, I visited a deserted train station. I walked towards its yellow light, a weird oasis in the darkness. The wind ghosted in from the sea, and haunted me with fragrances of salt and rotting seaweed. By the staircase an electric light buzzed a hornet’s warning. Stark functionality reigned, along with stern cautions: ‘Keep behind the line’. Ticket machines waited patiently for customers. Benches yearned for backsides. A shelter from inclement weather beckoned for company. From a distance a train hooted a warning, and twin lights zoomed towards us. We leaned forward in anticipation, but stayed safely within bounds. The train did not deign to stop, and whooshed us within…
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oppression, subtle and not-so-subtle
Here is a fantastic speech by one of Ireland’s best known Drag Queens, Panti Bliss (Rory O’Neill), about how subtle, and not-so-subtle, oppression in society is internalised by the victims of oppression. I particularly resonated with Panti’s description of watching a ‘reasoned debate’ on TV about why you should or should not be entitled to full rights – which is a thoroughly alienating experience for anyone who is the subject of that discussion (and often not included in the debate itself). Intellectual debates about the ‘rights’ of human beings and their lived experiences is a fine theoretical exercise that can be set aside and forgotten by those who are not…
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sea froth
Inside the sea froth I peer out as I push in, for a macro shot. Immortalised in a bubble, blown by the sea, carefree me. Maura McHugh
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escape from Shallot
Escape from Shallot Restless lady, Busy weaving, Alone, enclosed, And fretful, anxious, About prophesied ruin. Heed not Hearsay curses, Imagined evil, That will slay you, If you dare spy outside. Your mind Binds you Faster than guards, Or the thick walls You labour behind. Rise up! Look out! At the world resplendent. None can impede you, If your will remains. Be easy Be gentle Step to the window, See what awaits you, And walk towards the door. Maura McHugh Some thoughts on ‘The Lady of Shalott’ by Alfred, Lord Tennyson.
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Coole Stag
Your antlers lift At my awed approach – Grace bestowed. The photo was taken yesterday in Coole Park, Galway.
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dive
Dive In the stillness between the blood’s pulses the faint cry of the despondent heart can be heard above the covering chatter of determined cheerfulness. Busy schedules fill the gaps in between. But the sleepless dark peels back pretence with a surgeon’s precision. What will you discover in your open chest? Perhaps treasure, Once you face the emptiness, and delve deep enough in the echoing chambers. Maura McHugh
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Paper Crannóg at NINE
On Saturday evening I attended the launch of the NINE exhibition in the Galway Arts Centre. It was originally installed in The LAB Gallery in Foley Street, Dublin last summer, and this was its début in the West of Ireland. The artists’ brief for the exhibition was to reflect in their artwork something about how it feels to be nine years old. The brochure says: At nine, children are seeking out independence, expanding their ideas about the world and becoming autonomous human beings who still need lots of security and reassurance from their family group. It is a unique point in a human being’s life: moving from being one number…
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Hello ComiXology!
At long last Jennifer Wilde, issue 1 has made it onto ComiXology! You can log in now and buy your digital copy of the comic for an amazing price. This will certainly boost the sale of the comic outside of Ireland. I buy quite a lot of comics via ComiXology these days, and the books look fabulous on my iPad. In fact, it’s a little too easy, and on occasion I get carried away. I must admit to a little thrill to be listed among so many of my comic book heroes and heroines.
