AnamAit

exhibition

place cobs cobs cobs cobs

dreamcatcher at Index Gallery, Central Library, Lady Lane, Waterford

November 2008

dreamcatcher from “moin fhionnúrach - fenor bog” collection cobs The “dreamcatcher” collection includes landscape and abstract paintings inspired by Waterford’s natural heritage; including diverse environments from suburban garden to seascapes.

The paintings were inspired by three visits to the award-winning Fenor Bog Nature Reserve at the edge of Waterford's Copper Coast Geopark and include paintings in oil, a book of photographs, an installation and collection of sound recordings.

Fenor Bog is recognised as an important example of “alkaline fen.” the thirty-two acre National Nature Reserve includes seven distinct eco-systems, including both acid and alkaline bog, areas of wet woodland willow and alder, swampy grassland, tussock and wet herb swamp, with a reed bed in the pond.

Paintings : oil on canvas: 2008

fenor bog
Fenor Bog: rushes

fenor bog golden fleece
Fenor Bog: golden fleece

fenor bog weave
Fenor Bog : weave

fenor bog phoenix
Fenor Bog: phoenix

culture night
Culture Night
acrylic on canvas : 2008

going into the island
Going into the Island

dreamcatcher – fenor bog
building on what is becoming past
dream of a fertile future
carbon deposits – fibre of being – layered, harvested (mined, used)
future is bright
future is bleak
Dreams and memories
drifting in mists of past and present.
Capture life’s present
jewelled with mist.

moin fhionurach - fenor bog photo book
moin fhionnurach :fenor bog
photo book : 2008

Patterns of Life
I am a pattern seeker.
I trace lines in sand: in rock.
Seek out defining textures in the fabric of my world;
lines of movement; fluid directions.
Shadows conjure theorems
paths of light hold secrets,
dreams and visions; keys to understanding

Going into the Island
Motte and Bailey: walled Citadel: an island within an island.
Draw a line - under - the wall of life
defining boundary
defining path into the island.

Life Beyond the Pale
What lies beyond the city wall?
Motte and Bailey of our time
What wetlands were our boundary walls – the conduit of our pride…
Water, food and thatch
Boundary, artery
Way out, way in
clogged and stagnant,
foul and dank
dull and grey
pushed back, pushed back
But tides and fen will rise and find new level
the constant earth is ever shifting
the mountains move
the sun divides

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