Raised in the Wicklow hills that verge the East coast of Ireland, the Irish Sea has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. From playing on the grey stones of Bray beach as a child and walking along its Promenade, to sailing from the Harbour into all sorts of weather, to taking the train to school, and then later the Dart to Dublin, the sea was a constant backdrop, and imprinted on my soul. A decade ago my parents moved back to the seaside town of Bray, and now when I go home a daily walk along the Seafront is always a rewarding and invigorating experience, offering something different every time, depending on the time of day or night, the weather, the light and the season.
In winter the waves crash and sea spray blows, with seagulls broiling the air above, shrieking with aggression, and in the summer the people flock, a community drawn by the magic of the place, gathering together at the water’s edge. It has such a pull and a power over all of us who have lived near to this immense body of water. Whether walking along the Seafront, gazing from the windows of the Dart as the sea stretches far to the horizon, or climbing high above it on the Cliff Walk to Greystones, she is always awesome. Sometimes she is an unbelievable aqua, deep and inviting, home of seals and sailboats, but usually she’s clothed in ever-changing shades of grey, speared with shafts of light, her surface hosting tunneling clouds heavy and dark with rain, arched with rainbows and shadowed with showers.
This piece was painted from memory, from thousands of miles away in Jamaica. It’s now going to a new home in Malahide, where it clearly belongs. I’m letting it go with the intention that one day I will paint beside this majestic moving piece of home that makes my heart sing. Bring it on : )