The Birdhouse

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I am bird nerd. Always ways always will be. A good portion of my life is spent just looking out the window studying their activities. Not a minute of it a waste.

They have dismantled the house across the road where the pigeons were nesting, I knew the day would come. They were bold and held on till the end but they have moved on now.  Their home of many years is nothing but an expanse of sky between two walls. I still see them flying though. A swathe of silver circles the rooftops before ducking and dipping out of sight. A marvel that lifts my soul each and every time I catch it.

My dream is to one day have a house with a garden and in that garden there will be a tree with a bird or two or three or more.

Birds mean home to me. I want them to take me with them. Home.

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Many Are Called

The Call

I found this piece of black wood while doing a beach clean at Shellybanks on the South Wall in Dublin. I was very taken with it so I took it home gave it a wipe and waited for the moment of inspiration. I saw the figure in the wood and brought it out in crayon which I later touched up with acrylic paint.

It is featured in the table selfies post but I wanted to give it its own post because I think it deserves it.

 

New Painting. Title: I need to tell you something. 

I need to ask you something

Acrylic and oil pastels on pastel cartridge paper.

I am always interested in exploring the masculine and feminine principles and looking at the dualistic aspect of life and identity.  How the unconscious unformed self and the boxy conscious rational acceptable front confront each other. Partners in a dance where toes get trodden on.