Early this year a sumptuously illustrated and sharply written book was published, celebrating the life of a female artist who is more famous abroad than in her native Ireland. Admirers such as John Piper noted that she was a master of colour who should be compared to Braque, Rouault, Kandinsky and Matisse. She is so highly regarded by the international community that when names of great artists were given to craters discovered on the planet Mercury, she was honoured alongside Shakespeare, Beethoven and Picasso.
Michael Brown has been a resident of Fermanagh for twenty years, recording documentary films and interpreting landscape through paintings, photography and print making, working from his studio near Ballinamallard.
You notice a lot of strange things when you spend time cycling down back roads just to see where they lead. This gate is near Trillick in County Tyrone.
J.G. Ballard’s 1975 cult novel High-Rise is perhaps better appreciated as a metaphor for an inexplicable breakdown of social order. Continue reading “High Rise”
You and I are already connected
so deeply related – bound by invisible kinship
beyond this window into which you peer.
Let’s return to common ground
to walk with each other in silence
and remember together
our place in the family of things.
Mullaghfad church, built in 1831 and without electricity, nestles in the heart of the forest on Sliabh Beagh. On the night of 1st July it provided the perfect setting for Sliabh Beagh Arts to create an immersive arts space which would showcase the array of projects they had created over the last year. Continue reading “Forgotten Song”
If you have traveled the main A4 road between Clogher and Fivemiletown recently you will probably have seen the stack of silage bales colourfully decorated by leading graffiti artist Kev Largey. They have been featured extensively in social media, on BBC and UTV, and in the local and national press.
Continue reading “Graffiti Bales”
I’m sure many writers will agree that using a prompt is a great way to develop a story idea and get your writing flowing. So, if a phrase or a sentence or a photograph can stir our imaginations, what about using real objects? Continue reading “Hold Your Ideas In Your Hands”
The one certainty of a holiday is our having to say goodbye to it. I still remember how, as a child, I used crane my neck and look back at the Rock of Cashel as it receded, its massive grey becoming smaller and paler. Just before it faded to a dot, a sudden bend whipped it from my sight. It was the victory of reality over dream, necessity over wishful thinking.