Drawing and making have always been a touchstone for me.  As the more traditional forms, they promote an easier understanding between the work and the audience.  As skills, it delights me to use them.  They are also process:  time spent doing.  My Installations are like paintings, except they occupy a 3D space.  They use colour and line as in the wake of the plough in “And Tír na nÓg Dances On”, or “In-and-Out House” in Annamakerrig.  They are figurative, as in “Absent:  The Coat Piece” or “Urban Foxes”.  Making allows the scope to “build” abstract ideas into tangible form, and Installation extends this idea to include the context of the situation.  Built objects have a presence which engages the audience at their scale, in their own space.  In installation, the sculpture forms part of the environment in which it stands and becomes one with it.  It does not demand more attention than its surroundings nor is it diminished by them.

Drawing, in particular, is an important element for me:  I have moved from life drawing (And Tír na nÓg Dances On) through drawing in paint (Field, Big Sky,), installation drawing (School Daysies), to abstract (Elements).  My drawing has come full circle and I am drawing figuratively again (Trees, Sheds, Grass).  Drawing provides me with an opportunity to study – not only what I can see but also the pictures in my mind.

Recording and gathering are integral to my work. It is a process of valuing, of conserving and of recognition.  which is directly connected to the symbiotic relationship of people and the land (the primary concern in my work).  In my many residencies at the Ballinglen Arts Foundation I have collected images, stories and objects.  In “Absent:  Derelicts” I accumulated a large number of photographs of derelict houses from the environs of Ballycastle and indeed from all over Ireland.  Some were used in the work “Absent” exhibited at the Éire/Land exhibition in Boston in 2003.  In “Familiar Territory” a large amount of found objects were gathered and some were used in “Journey:  Memory of Place”.   The photos of derelicts conveyed pathos and potential memories, as well as touching shadows of lives unknown.  Found objects are similar:  things people owned and used and discarded for some reason.  Stories are the words of people.

As Nature is indifferent in its attitude to itself, everything is in harmony as nothing has a greater value than anything else.  However, human inhumanity to the natural elements – among them, trees – has disturbed the balance of this arrangement.  We cannot exist autonomously:  we are intrinsically bound to the eco-system through an interdependent and interactive relationship.  Creating disturbances in the delicate balance, the hand of humanity can both destroy and heal by its intervention – thus we have a responsibility.  The symbolic wisdom of trees and the ancientness of stone can act as guide to our impetuosity.

“Piece for a Maple Tree”  1992

I choose to look at the notion of survival as a process of continuous regeneration, of cycle and continuum, interlocking with the issue of friendship, of relational experience, of being part of a greater whole. It is in this manner that we are protected and nurtured. This security is afforded us when we are in harmony with our surroundings and when we see ourselves as part and parcel of our environment. We need trees to give us a sense of proportion. They are living beings in contact with the earth. They are bigger in size than we are and afford us the refuge of their canopy. They screen us from the wind, they provide us cover in rain, and shade against the sun. We are in the shelter of trees and they are our friends.

Trees are a long time standing. They watch life go round. They are patient and enduring. In the forest, there is protection in numbers. Trees form a shelter-belt, create an umbrella-roof, a sentinel of wood. It is a community of trees, each helping the others. Leaves fall, become food for the tree and it produces more leaves. Each tree sustains itself and those around it.

National Botanic Gardens, Glasnevin, Dublin.

Similarly, drawing is a component of art, simple lines tracing movement, light – one feature of a more intricate structure.  In this work, line is used to create the impressions of twigs, leaves – detritus blown by the wind, fragmented by the powers of nature.

From the comfort of my studio, I watch the winter storms pass the window.  The wind is delineated by the movement of the debris blowing past;  the hail piles up on the glass.  I am looking past the framework, the complexity of modern living, to the simple constituents of life – to the basic Elements.