Some days Andromeda can be found in our kitchen….

Painting by Sir Edward Poynter




by Charles Bukowski

there’s a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I’m too tough for him,
I say, stay in there, I’m not going
to let anybody see

there’s a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I pour whiskey on him and inhale
cigarette smoke
and the whores and the bartenders
and the grocery clerks
never know that
in there.

there’s a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I’m too tough for him,
I say,
stay down, do you want to mess
me up?
you want to screw up the
you want to blow my book sales in

there’s a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I’m too clever, I only let him out
at night sometimes
when everybody’s asleep.
I say, I know that you’re there,
so don’t be sad.

then I put him back,
but he’s still singing a little
in there, I haven’t quite let him
and we sleep together like
with our
secret pact
and it’s nice enough to
make a man
weep, but I don’t
weep, do

. . . . . . . .

The beautiful call of the Bluebird

. . . . . . . .
John James Audubon
Preen Fall 2011 RTW
Detail of Clyfford Still, No.3 painting at MOMA today
Acne Fall 2011 RTW
Detail of Mark Rothko, No. 1o at MOMA today
The Hug,  New York City – Nan Goldin which I also saw today at MOMA



Leonard Cohen – First we take Manhattan

Ill take the top and bottoms…
Proenza Schouler Fall 2011 RTW
Joan of Arc
condemned to death on a technicality for wearing mens clothes
portrayed here by Ingrid Bergman
Armour Amore



Suno Fall 2011 RTW

Palletes inspired by artists Peter Doig & Felix Vallotton


Spent the day longing to be under water

was thinking to leave the house, head for Rockaway beach

hop in the water.. hitch a ride.. whale back to Greenland…


hours of being lost in those thoughts..

wondered if i should bring a back pack..

I remembered Gary’s exhibition-project ‘At Sea’

Lost in these images
mouthfuls of sea water
salty skin

Monday 5th March 2007. Swim No 2036.
I left the house at 11.40, I cycled the usual route, nothing unusual, the normal dog walkers & people exercising. Spring is definitely threatening, the whole way down I can hear birds chirping loudly, arriving in Sandycove I recognise a few people changing in the shelter of Kavanagh’s wall. Eoin is walking slowly back from the sea in his togs, arms stretched before him, looking like a mummy from horror film. I go on to the Forty Foot, it is very rough off the front & no one is about so I go around to the back, which is safer, Mick Dwane is there as is Bill. I ask where all the regulars are & I am told they have gone on their second trip of the winter to the Canaries, lucky dogs, though have to say I would not walk to the shops with some of them. I change & hop in, the tide is very high & strong, with very little effort I was drawn out 15 metres, I take my photo’s & swim back in. I chat away to Mick & Bill & decline their offer of a cup of tea in the hut & I head off. It starts to rain, something that has been threatening all day, but it has been a few days since I had some proper exercise s o I decide to take a risk & go in spite of the weather.

I head off on a cycle to Dalkey, I take my normal route, a car on Breffni Road passes within inches of me. I see one of the adult seals begging for fish off Bulloch Harbour. It has the head the size of a small cow. I cycle up the hill the road works on Harbour Road, which have been going on for months, have now finally finished & the road signs are so newly painted you can still see their chalk outlines. I pass by a gaggle of school girls outside Loreto School, I turn around in Dalkey & come back, the wind is now behind me & it really makes a difference, I fly down harbour Road, cycle along through Glasthule, spot Dessie Perry coming back from the Off Licence with a full bag of beer, I give him a wave. An aggressive young driver allows me to pass with scarcely concealed disdain before driving past at a ridiculous speed, arsehole. I stop at the Centra store to buy my paper but it is sold out so I cycle on to Dun Kaoghaire, I pass by one of the worst buskers that I have ever heard in my whole life plinking away at a white plastic guitar on the corner of link road. Get to John’s newsagents on the corner of Clarinda park east buy my paper; it starts to rain heavily so I speed home. Just as I am going in my front door, I meet Maureen from one of the flats next door, who tells me that a good friend has just died, of Lung Cancer. She then proceeds to give me a blow by blow account of the unfortunate mans demise, all the while she is frantically puffing away on a cigarette, poor woman, she is very upset. Home at 12.40

ARTIST GARY COYLE: The Daily Practice of Swimming








Irelands first nun

Many conflicting stories can be found on her life

She’s a mystery

Her Feast day February 1st the Feastival of the Imbolic

marks the start of Spring in the native Irish calander

Imbolic means Literally “in the belly” in the Old Irish Neolithic language, referring to the pregnancy of ewes.

Brigid’s name comes from the Irish, Breo-saighit, which means “fiery arrow.”

Goddess of fire, divination, prohecy, healing, metalwork, fertility, family, fugitives, mariners, midwives, poets, scholars, travellers

Negotiator, peacemaker, activist and weaver

Her cross was made of newly plucked rushes,

her crios (girdle or belt) of new straw & her Miraculous cloak of woven materials.

Alexander McQueen Spring 2011 RTW



The Biddys

On the eve of St. Bridget (31st January)
“Men and women dressed up in old ragged clothes, ‘giobals’ in Gaelic.
Twine was used for belts or maybe old rope, sometimes they wore pyjamas turned inside out.
They covered their faces with pieces of painted cloth. These masks were usually made from cotton flour bags or old scraps of material.
Two holes were cut out for the eyes And a gash for the mouth.
They looked very scary to me,
I don’t know what was used for paint, but as I remember they were very colourful.
They also wore hats, and carried sticks, like those used by shepherds.
They played accordians and danced around the kitchen when they came in.
Once Grandma had fresh buns made for our tea, and they stole most of them on the way out.
I hated the Biddies night…..
I was always scared by their masks and long wild looking attire!!!!!!”. (Mart Forde my aunt)


Le Mystere des voix Bulgares

Kenzo Retrospective

Le Mystere des voix Bulgares

been listening to these ladies all week

The appeal of the group has to do with the beauty of its sound,

the character of its music and the connection of this music with universal human feelings and experiences.

“It is a natural, piercing sound for the outdoors to carry across the fields or from hilltop to hilltop.

The sound is created in the larynx, it resonates in the chest.

It requires great pressure of the breath to create the sound and you must be very strong to sing in this fashion.”(Dora Hristova)



Givenchy’s Riccardo Tisci S/S 2011 Paris Haute Couture Presentation


Courtnay Cain Bare boxer

My flatmate Courtnay busy at work…

1860 Portrait of bare knuckle boxer John Heenan after 42 rounds with Tom Sayers