Long before it happens

"The future enters into us....in order to transform itself in us.... long before it happens."

William Beveridge

Time is beginning to play tricks. It gallops along at a right old lick and then slows into stillness. I love the idea that the future enters into us, to transform us, long before it happens? It is a kind of explanation as to what I am feeling about the future and why.....

I have no New Year resolution or intention..... I only know that I want to go deeper into what matters with every day.  Like going into the forest again, that spooky old place, rustling and creaking. But then the light catches some small details and I get swept away, into the flow again.....

Afterwards the thinking part of my brain decides to build an entirely new website. I'm about to shift from Blogger to WordPress, start again from scratch, learn a lot more about how to do all this. I'm trying to visualise the world 5 years from now. I find it is almost impossible as everything changes so fast.....

Then I woke up and found that artist, genius and legend Bowie was gone. I find Lazarus (his current gift to us) very hard to watch. But I always loved this one from 2013, maybe before he knew how it would end? Full of emotion, sadness, nostalgia for Berlin, and of course the dead.....

There are shifts and changes at play

There are shifts and changes at play. A tattooed family gazes into the distance. Their whole stance creating a question. 

Yes, there are shifts and changes at play. Like what the future will bring for us all and for our vulnerable world? Like what makes sense for a contemplative photographer in these days of high alerts and lock downs? Like how to make use of every precious moment without adding to consumerism and overload? 

The question for the tattooed family was whether or not to take a risk on a fairground ride? How to figure out the moves required for jumping on and jumping off? 

And that's just exactly where I'm at too......

On gift giving 

 My little book "Seek light, embrace shade, live colour" is still for sale in the Blurb Bookshop.

If you would like to give a Foxglove Lane Gift Token I would be very happy to sort you out and fill the orders in 2016......just send me a mail through the contact page. 

Need more help? Visit the how to buy page

Underneath the surface

Some towns were barely touched by the "boomiest" boom Ireland never had. Today a small dog, waiting for his master to return from the match, is alone amongst empty shops, messy paint jobs and abandoned petrol pumps. 

Some buildings change hands every few months; go from being a sweet shop to being a cafe, and back again. But other shop windows remain empty, like vacant faces where there should be a smile.

The lens is loving the wabi-sabi of it, the cracks in the doorways, the nostalgia of childhood memories. But there is quiet desperation here too, and for many people a calm exterior belies furious fast paddling below the surface.




Also check out the latest gallery of black and white nature photography

Midlife and the great unknown

In the middle of the road of my life I awoke in a dark wood, where the true way was wholly lost.

Dante Alighieri



David Whyte has a great image in his audio set,  Midlife and the Great Unknown. He describes the moment when you are at the end of a project or when you have settled your affairs. You finally tidy up the house, make a cup of coffee and sit down to enjoy the peace and achievement. Maybe you've been looking forward to reading your favourite book, turning up the music full volume, putting your feet up? I am here at last you might think to yourself. I have finally arrived. (I may not be remembering this fully accurately as it's many years since I devoured this little gem of wisdom, but it went something like this.) 

Anyway in that moment there is a feeling of deep relaxation, completion and a huge sigh of relief! As you put your feet up to sink into that precious moment of being, a knock comes to the door.......This to David is the essence of mid-life; just as we think we have it sussed, a new spanner is thrown into the works. All we can know for sure is that every stage, event, project, dream is transient and that an unscheduled knock at the door is always looming. 

Some how this image soothed me in a period of wondering what I would do for the rest of my days. I was probably coming up to 50, and having that "who am I, what am I" mid life crisis. This unsettling feeling gripped me, but I had some illusion that it would pass as I got older. 

Ha! Fat chance! Why? Because it keeps on happening! Just as I think I might have a handle on the Great Unknown,  I find that everything has changed, I need to go in some new direction, and I am without a clue yet again.  

My day job involves a flimsy year to year contract and has done all my life. I've never actually had one of those permanent and pensionable jobs. I've been privileged to work in the social sector where there is such scope for good work and relationships with good people. To continue to be paid to do it, most of the time, has been lucky for sure. 

But it has never been secure and I have become used to the flotsam and jetsam flow of work, the tide coming in and going out. At this age I am wondering (yes again) if I might steal a moment or two to put the kettle on and put my feet up? I seem to be craving it. Yes I am still drawn towards that illusive state of peace and tranquility, a closing of the front door behind me..... 

And although I know it won't last, I wonder would it ever at least just begin?

Where does creativity come from?

The highest goal one can achieve is amazement. ~ Goethe

My first design experiments involved selecting snails along a narrow garden path. Lining them up in rows, I would talk kindly and invite them to take part in games. I would be their big sister, telling them stories and giving them names like Germaine and Margaret. Blended with rose petals and pebbles, they would become part of spiralling collages and patterns.  

Snails were the closest thing I had to a proper pet until we got our dog Timmy. After Timmy was "sent to live on a farm" we got a tortoise which went to sleep for the winter and never woke up. But the snails were always there and Pooka Snails, the large ones with protruding horns, were always my favourite. 

I began a half day at school at three and a half. In the afternoons I would sit on the path, school bag on my back, practicing my letters and reciting to those snails. Here were the foundations of my dream life; finding a quiet space for an inner world, connecting with nature, spending time mulling over the mysteries.

When you are looking at the random play and explorations of a very young child you are peeking into her soul, her love of what comes naturally. For some it will be climbing trees, for others kicking a ball, for the quiet few it will be escaping into imaginary worlds and talking to snails. 

Blogging and the things that make us more alive

No artist is pleased… There is only a queer divine dissatisfaction, a blessed unrest that keeps us marching and makes us more alive.......

Martha Graham

Photoblogging has brought me deep into the world of light and mystery, ordinary everyday beauty, friendship across the world and back on a path to writing. It's been every week now for almost 5 years.    

This year was my fourth to be in the final of the annual Irish Blog Awards. Each time it has sent me on a bit of a wobble, something that I don't enjoy. Don't get me wrong, I love sharing what I create with you. But judging and competing? It reminds me too much of waiting outside the door of the Oral Irish Exam in the Leaving Cert; sets my poor nerves on edge!

Building a space to be creative is why I blog. I get to own and nurture my own artistic apprenticeship. I can share with you out of love and vocation, and still be the one who benefits most of all from the whole process. I gain the satisfaction, connection, learning, progression and pleasure from the work I do. I can barely even call what I do here work, it's actually a lot more like play.....

So I did in fact win the Silver Award for photography in the Blog Awards. Thank you to all of you who supported and voted for me through the early stages and those who judged and organised the event. 

And a special shout out to all the finalists, nominees, and bloggers everywhere who are part of this creative Irish Blogging Community doing what "keeps us marching and makes us more alive".

If you love the veils of early morning fog visit the Mist Gallery 

We are terrified, and we are brave #dayofthegirl

"We are terrified, and we are brave. "

Elizabeth Gilbert

Am I the photographer who writes? Am I the writer who takes pictures? Almost 5 years ago I began to blog. Writing would have to be part of it, but I would never, ever call myself a writer.....I would be a photo blogger.....

The first steps were so terrifying that I blogged anonymously. In 2012 I was invited to host the @Ireland twitter account and decided I would have to come out of my shell. Gradually I became comfortable with the tag "blogger," won a couple of awards for the photography and happily continued. 

From the age of about four I had filled lined copybooks with stories (about sad things mostly) illustrated with colouring pencil drawings. Brene Browne says that about 80% of adults have a shaming story from their past of which 50% are about their creativity. Well I too have mine, about "writing" but it happened much later during my teen-age years.

I had written a school essay about a young poet I had a crush on. (He grew up to be the real deal but that's neither here nor there.) I quoted what I thought was a wonderful line about Dylan Thomas in this essay, "as happy as the grass is green." To this day I'm not sure whether Dylan Thomas, my poet with the long hair or my 16 year old self actually said that??? Anyway when the essays were given back I was a sick with anticipation. I had gushed, I had strayed from the text we were given, I had shown something of my vulnerability. 

Our English Teacher used to stand on the podium, open each essay, bark a result and mutter a short comment. When she came to mine, she didn't open it or comment. She threw the copy book at me spitting one word, "Trite!" The strongest possible message that I needed to shut up the fledgeling voice which somehow through innocence had gotten loose. 

Later she took me aside and gave me a lecture about doing well in the exam and sticking to the tried and tested formulae. I don't think any of this was done out of meanness at all. It was done out of fear for my future. A girl needed to hide her feelings, know how to protect herself from silly notions and get enough of an education to be employable. 

You might think that the Art Teacher was a bit more encouraging as I ended up going to Art College? Strange thing is, I often saw other girls being undermined or "shamed" in similar ways about their art work. By the time I left school I felt both abandoned and free. There was a complete lack of support but there was also a lack of expectation.   

For some reason, I never fully gave up on that precious space where I mooched with paint, a camera or even words. Thanks to my English Teacher I moved into the visual world, and thanks to blogging there is now a space to reclaim my love of language too.

Best of both worlds; a brave photographer who writes AND a terrified writer who takes pictures.......

11th October was International Day of the Girl Child  #dayofthegirl which reminded me of how precious creativity can be to a young girl. 

You can preview my little book on the creative path here

For even more on creativity delve into the brilliant Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear by Elizabeth Gilbert 

And special thanks to the Woodland Girl

The freedom to imagine : 28.8.15

Logic will get you from A to B. Imagination will take you everywhere.
Albert Einstein

Sometimes he is Link, a character from The Legend of Zelda, other times he is Oisin (pronounced Ush-een). Sometimes I'm an outgoing professional, other times I'm a burrowing, childlike, introvert. While we are working together, or perhaps playing together would be more accurate, we are each living out our own sense of wonder. 

I'm not sure I fully understand this legend, but I know there is a nobility about Link, he is some one who overcomes great odds with little inclination to be a hero. Probably the kind of hero most of us would identify with. 

As we climb the hill to Dunhill Castle, Oisin notices a beautiful moth and captures it in a jar. Later he sends my spirit soaring, as he releases it again, into the cool breeze of the Anne Valley below.

We both understand that the world can be harsh and that you would need every weapon in your soul's armory to deal with it all some days. But like so many others, we also share the ability to suspend disbelief, to enter the zone of story and myth, to allow ourselves the freedom to imagine.

We were on location at Dunhill Castle, County Waterford. Thanks to Oisin Hennessy for the concept, role play and wardrobe. See more photos here

A way of life : 3.8.15

Clarissa Pinkola Estes posted a letter for her many fans last week.
 Her book Women who run with the wolves took 20 years and 42 rejection letters to find publication and become one of my all time inspirational books. In the letter she said....

"Stories are medicine. Medicine for the world. Heavy medicine carried by those who have the deep spiritual muscle to carry the medicine, in fact, persons are chosen. It is not a profession. It is a calling. It is not a bunch of images, symbols and 'stories.' It is a way of life."

Today the mousy little rabbit, settled into her usual spot and devoured her favourite flowers. Is being here photographing the ordinary and the everyday a calling? Is the creative process exercising a deep spiritual muscle? Have I been chosen to carry a heavy medicine for the world?

 There were a dozen other lives I almost lived. I'm not sure how I ended up being here instead of ambling down the city streets where I grew up. But here I am, and yes while I can't fully grasp "the calling" I know this is definitely a way of life, that I am home. 

Do you ever feel that you are living out your calling? Is your own practice more than "a bunch of images, symbols, and stories"? Is it your way of life?

This week's gallery is a collection called Inklings

Angela Jupe

Angela Jupe's Georgian home Bellefield House

In March the garden is full of daffodils and hellebores.

Wild woodland planting around the house

The stable yard stone out buildings have been transformed into rental properties

Even the potting shed is beautiful!

The gardens have some strong architectural features built around reclaimed and salvaged materials

Blue anemones follow me around these days!

And we got a sneak peek through the back door and into Angela's home, Bellefield House

I'd say for sure there isn't a square inch of Angela Jupe's life that isn't some expression of her inner creative spark. While I could write about her amazing garden and Georgian home at Bellefield in County Offaly, it is the woman herself as an artist whose work I feel deserves the appreciation and recognition here.

Now retired, she has illustrated her philosophy through 8 transformative personal projects- and the many other houses and gardens she has renovated and re-designed over her life time. As a landscape designer and architect, she is that rare commodity a female visual artist of the outdoors in Ireland. 

I had stored up in my rusting memory an article about Angela describing how catmint is a great substitute for lavender in an Irish garden. That was probably 20 years ago, so it was wonderful to chat to her about design, collecting art you love and experiencing first hand one of her projects.

While travelling in the Midlands this week on an organised blogger tour I was struck many times by the passion of individuals creating beautiful worlds through collaborating with nature. From our blogger organiser Margaret from Oldfarm, passionate about food, the workers at the Birr Theatre lovers of the arts, to the restorers of Fancroft Mill lovers of engineering and history, pure inspiration.

The Middle of Ireland has a soft tranquility about it. Off the beaten track, there is space and time here. There are many kinds of travellers and tourists. I'm the kind who tries to avoid crowds, queues, fast food and bikini opportunities. I'm looking for meandering paths, gentle unspoiled landscapes and local specialities-with maybe some of that elusive fairy dust thrown in.... 


For me Angela Jupe's influence on the treasures of the #magicalmidlands is one of the best examples I know of going through life and adding a fair sprinkling of fairy dust to everything you touch along the way......






More posts on the Magical Midlands Blogger Tour next week. Also thanks to Mid Ireland Tourism for sponsoring the tour and inviting me to participate.