I arrived on Monday with a couple of boxes and a butterflies in my stomach. Niamh Finn met me and showed me around, gave me a quick run down of where to get what and who to talk to and then let me move in. I had seen the space when Gypsy Ray had been in Residence and it seemed big,  but without Gypsy and her drawings the space felt huge! I started moving my bits in and immediatly regreted not bringing more!
I have recently started working with a ‘real’ camera and am trying to work out how to get the pictures i want, its easier to see them using a film camera, as opposed to digital, and they turn out a lot better when they work, but i have been having a few hiccups.

I headed out to use the last few shots on my colour film and as it was snowing i headed up to the castle to photograph some of the trees. It was freezing cold and my camera got a little wet but it was amazing standing out in the snow, it looked like a speckled fog moving through the park. I took some digital shots as back up, which was just as well as i ripped the film when i was winding it up (some hiccups are really embarassing). Still I managed to get a few nice shots.
Tuesday was a bit of a choppy day, I didn’t feel like i got much done and was a little daunted by the big white space again.
Wednesday was brilliant. I attacked the space, spread out all my materials, put my paper on the walls, stuck up my photos and started to draw.

drawing trees
drawing trees

Having managed to slavage a few photos from the roll I was dying to get out and take more, I had bought a roll of black and white film and it was burning a hole in my pocket. I headed out to Woodstock in Inistioge.

I can honestly say it was one of the most amazing places I have ever visited.   It was feezing cold (literally, snow hail and drizzle) and really overcast.  The sky was the most beautiful soft grey and white,  I had a pain in my neck from looking up.   As it says in my press release,  I am currently reading the poem Atlas, its rolling around in my brain since I read it in school when I was about 15 and i thought it was the most depressing poem I had ever read.

It talks about the practical side of love, how sometimes remembering to sort out insurance or collect messages is more valuable than flowers or romantic words.  Having lived with someone for the last couple of years, I am finding out that sometimes after coming home from work, finding the bin has been emptied, or there is a load in the washing machine is actually the best thing in the world. This is really the focus of my work, the mundane crucial maintenance of relatonships.

So on Wednesday, standing in the middle of Woodstock with snow falling and my fingers stiff from the cold I noticed myself breathing, and i wondered how long had it been since the last time i noticed i was breathing.

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