"He lived there in the unsayable lights.
He saw the fuchsia in a drizzling noon,
The elderflower at dusk like a risen moon
And green fields greying on the windswept heights.
‘I will break through,’ he said, ‘what I glazed over
With perfect mist and peaceful absences"
An intimate performance of "Paper Wings" atop a Massey 35 inside an abandoned Irish church, now home of a master mechanic's garage . . .
Each time I return to Ireland, I try and pay a visit to "Maude's House" which is only accessible by walking along a wooded path that follows the river through a most enchanted forest. The path eventually opens to a gated entrance to what was once a fine tidy farm owned by a County Clare woman named Maude. I have photographed what remains on numerous occasions as the ravages of time take its toll. The residual memories of what remains reminds me of our impermanence.
Upon arrival in Ireland, with a sleepless night and an all day drive behind me, I accidentally arrived at this abandoned 6th century monastery.
"The individual has always had to struggle to keep from being overwhelmed by the tribe. If you try it, you will be lonely often, and sometimes frightened. But no price is too high to pay for the privilege of owning yourself."
“And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.”
― Anais Nin
“Where you come from is gone, where you thought you were going to was never there, and where you are is no good unless you can get away from it. Where is there a place for you to be?
Nothing outside you can give you any place.
In yourself right now is all the place you’ve got.”
I’ve noticed that truth is very rarely found in the extremes, in the black and white. You’ll usually find it right in the middle, in the gray. It’s just much harder to find that way.
(From a Providence, RI photo shoot with musician Allysen Callery)