"The price of diesel", possibly the most discussed and abhorred topic of the last few months, not to mention the cost of building supplies, electricity units, rent. I'm no expert, but I wouldn't be surprised if we see rations in our lifetime, if we see ourselves without the ludicrous luxuries (mangoes in Ireland in September, really?) that we've become accustomed to - and then some.
In some strange way, it feels like the outer world is reflecting parts of my inner world. Teenage me, me in my early 20s was ready to eat the world. To go as far and as fast and as hard as I could at just about everything. Get a tiny bit of money and blow it all on fun. Throw it all at the wall and see what sticks, say yes to everything, jump and see where you land. With hindsight, I see those years as a time of both utter simplicity and total excess.
Me, now, is satisfied with things much smaller than a flight across the world, the adrenaline rush of extreme sports, the dance-fuelled all nighters with strangers. Me, now, is made whole by something else. By the cosiest sheepskin and an authenticly written book. By someone bearing their soul - without the peacock feathers. By a really fucking good mug pf shcald. By everything that is *here*, not over there. By how deep I can go - not how far.
That feels, to me, like a reflection of what we probably all should be doing if we're taking the current state of affairs seriously. Looking local for our solutions. Growing our own food. Nurturing our own communities. Sowing our seeds and listening deeply and turning off the TV and tuning into each other and the wisdom of those that came before us because I don't know about you - but I reckon it's about to become more vital than ever.
This tapestry hangs on a storm-felled piece of wild Irish cherry from Glengarriff. Local and honest as bejaysus. Cotton and cherry, and made with me own hands.
Dimensions: 102 X 90 cm