Eric DUHAN is the Artist on the edge

darts and music

2010-03-27T03:11:00.001-07:00

an evening
out with the lads....

grand turk

2010-03-27T03:03:00.000-07:00

In port in Saint Malo. this quite beautiful ship a reconstruction of a Napolionic Wars British sailing ship.

QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS

2010-03-13T02:56:00.000-08:00

Answer to Shahin

You asked me, why?
I replied!
because you have never felt my heart beat under your hand
because you have never seen your smile reflected in my eyes.
You asked me, when?
I replied!
When the bird nests in the orchard of my soul
When the flower delivers its fruit in the autumn of the year.
You asked me, where?
I replied!
Where the rainbow starts its journey upwards
Where the sea stands still and memorises the names written in the sands.
You asked me, how?
I replied!
With the help of God/Allah or any other name you give Him/Her
With honour and passion in my heart and the desire to give you all I have.

Homage to a great Arab Poet.

2010-03-11T01:54:00.000-08:00

Ho(m)mage to the Arab poet
Mohammed Al-Maghut
1936-2006

He looked like a Connemara sheep farmer,
he wrote like a Celtic warrior,
He looked like a fisherman of the lakes and seas,
he wrote like the wave on the beach.

Words were his wealth, his home, his wife,
his children, his love life and his food.

Who are we to ask, why?
he is the one who needs to question our answer.

Fools who build on sand
make mountains of gold which
will one day fall and crush us all.
real wealth is in the heart, in the word, in the soul.

DEMO-CRAZY

2010-03-08T14:25:00.000-08:00

DEMO-CRAZY

Italy slipping back into the past.

Open letter

2010-02-24T01:20:00.000-08:00

A letter to a friend who is angry with religion.

The first thing to say is that the Pope is a not a communicator for the masses he is a scholar, like yourself, but you do communicare well. He has the disadvantage of being GERMAN, is an ugly bugger with a face and look which perfectly matches the first part of his name I.E. RAT . He is not a RATionalist. He is a grey man put in place to bring the church back from the place which JP 2 had brought it with his gay( in the old sense) open and loving pontificate.....

All religions are based on the human aligning with the dogma.....and not the dogma making allowances for the human. But Jesus himself said to the pharasees that ( the law was made for man not man for the law....)

The Popes problem is that he, in relationship to homosexuality, believes that it is a learned response and that one is not born Gay...I do not of course accept this thesis.
When you understand this you understand his problem.... but given the number of gay clergy and paedophiles hiding within the church not just as we speak but for the whole history of the church it is difficult to accept his out and out negative attitude to gays and other 'NoN Normal' people. I have often said that there is too much religion in the world and not enough faith and Jesus himself said that THE MOST IMPORTANT COMMANDMENT WAS TO 'Love your neighbour as yourself' and also 'Judge not least ye be judged'. Yet these men of GOD who love not but who judge others whether they be long bearded imams, tonsured monks or bible thumping red necked bible belt millionaire American preachers in crystal cathedrals spit in the face of love each time they open their mouths.

'The love that dare not speak its name'
The pope was trying to say that without the part of divinity and the respect of the soul in each of us creation itself is in danger, through the selfish misuse of the resources in the world. This is true for me as I see the divine in all people even the evil ones who do their best to destroy. I had this discussion with a Muslim recently and he cannot see past the dogma....this always makes me sad, he does not understand that the dogma and the clergy of his religion would hang him because he is homosexual.

Interpret the laws of each religion and it is that which destroys kills mutilates and makes null the simple idea love so dear to the heart of the heavenly Father/Mother.
I do not accept the 'masculinity' of the sacred person. God is the one spoken of in the poems of love and passion, the beloved the beautiful and the open one, not the grey beard hard vengeful unloving bastard who sends us to hell for a whim.

It is 'religion' and not loving faith which causes division, war, hate and disrespect. How can a man feel these things towards another if he can see the divine in him. This is probably what the 'fool on parade' was trying to say or should have been saying....

Aethophobia... hatred of people who have no faith... is widespread within each religion, thank God the Benedictine's and Franciscans exist within the church, that the Sufism exist within Islam and that the Buddhists exist too.

Saint Benedict was poisoned by his followers, Saint Francis was put aside by the community he founded and the Sufi are persecuted within Islam. I feel often that people become saints despite their actions as opposed to because of them.

So you see for me the framework within I practice my religion is just that, it is a trellis up which my vine might grow, open and aired and not a solid closed box with no windows or opening on the outside. So many people have their eyes closed wide shut and are afraid to look God in the eyes and see the love that exists within the totality of life. They hear the noise and not the symphony.

TIGER TIGER

2010-02-19T02:38:00.001-08:00

THE CHINESE NEW YEAR AND THIS TIGER IS SHINING BRIGHT IN THE FORESTS OF THE NIGHT. HIS EYES FULL OF FIRE.... WILD UNCAGED AND FREE.

DEATH OF STAR/PAPERAZZI

2010-02-19T02:32:00.000-08:00

THE IMAGE MAKER
THE IMAGE TAKER
THE IMAGE
IMAGE
OF
WHAT
OF WHOM
THE IMAGE THIEF?
KID A
KID A+
KID A-
LOST IN CYBER SPACE...

SPIRIT OF THE GREEN MOVEMENT IN IRAN

2010-02-19T02:25:00.001-08:00

This painting is inspired by the struggle of the Iranian people and relates the fact that you may imprison the body but never the mind and soul of a people. The moving 'towards the light' is an indication to all dictators that one day the truth will be known and the culprits will be seen for what they are. It is dedicated to the men women and children of Iran and other places in the world where intolerence is the norm. Secondly and particularly it is dedicated to those who have a different vision of love, like us all here and who suffer capital punishment for the most beautiful of feelings.

Spirit of Iran

A young man lies in prison cell
The darkness is broken by coming day
He stirs his aching body Grabs the wall and pulls himself upwards
Towards the light.

His eyes gleam in the brightness
His soul warms in the day
His crime, a folly, to those who hold him
His soul takes flight leaving his prison behind
Towards the light.

He sees the madness of his tormentors
He see the prison they are in
They cannot fly but rest attached to dogmas
that hold them fast and never let them fly
Towards the light.

Who is in prison? No, not he......

An Irish poet and friend of the people of Iran
whos only weapons are his words.

NEW YEAR NEW LIFE NEW WORK

2010-02-19T02:16:00.001-08:00

THIS TABLEAU IS A TRIBUTE TO DJANGO REINHEARDT AND ALL THE GUITARISTS WHO WERE INFLUENCED BY HIM UP TO TODAY. SOME SAY 'MOTERHEAD' I SAY WHY NOT WE ARE ALL INFLUENCED BY SOMEONE SOMETHING...EACH WORD HAS ITS MEANING AND EACH MEANING AN INTERPRETATION. CAN YOU SEE ANYTHING????
AND REMEMBER OVER ANALYSIS LEADS TO PARALYSIS. THERE IS A CERTAIN PERSON CALED "A DE A" WHO KNOWS THIS WELL AND FOR WHOM I HAVE A GREAT AFFECTION.

BEEN AWAY A LONG TIME

2009-11-22T03:16:00.000-08:00

WELL. HERE WE ARE AGAIN; A LOT OF WATER HAS FLOWN UNDER THE BRIDGES OF PARIS SINCE I WAS ON HERE LAST BUT LIFE IS LIKE THAT. IF THINGS REMAINED STATIC IT WOULD NOT BE GOOD FOR ANYONE.

SO WHAT HAVE I BEEN DOING? WELL WORKING PAINTING AND WRITING. ITS A LONELY ACTIVITY THE AULD WRITING AND PAINTIN' BUT I HAVE MET SOME GREAT PEOPLE OVER THE LAST WHILE. I HAVE TRAVELLED A LOT TOO. WELL EVERYTHING IS RELATIVE. I HAVE DISCOVERED THE BEAUTIES OF NAPLES. MILAN. MODENA AND BERGAMO IN ITALY AND WANT TO GO BACK AS SOON AS I HAVE THE CASH/ DOSH/ MONEY OR WHATEVER.

I HAVE AN EXHIBITION OF MY PAINTINGS AND DRAWINGS ON AT THE MOMENT AT THE Sociéte Générle BANK IN THE CENTRE OF SAINT MALO. THE PLACE DE PILORI. FUNNEY THING ITS WHERE THEY USED TO HANG AND PUNISH FELLONS AND MURDERS IN THE OLD DAYS AND EXHIBIT THEIR BODIES UNTIL THEY ROTTED...... I HOPE MY WATERCOLOURS DONT SUFFER THE SAME FATE BUT THEY WILL BE HANGING FOR A MONTH..

AVENUE MOZART, Paris

2007-09-08T08:52:00.000-07:00

The view from a flat in the avenue Mozart, in Paris. I like it, what do you think????

WORLD CUP RUGBY

2007-09-08T03:54:00.000-07:00

Here with the first thing you see when you arrive in Paris by the TGV, a statue to the World cup for Rugby.

ZENZA the RUSSIAN POET and ARTIST

2007-08-30T02:15:00.000-07:00

My Russian Friend asked to see a photo of my other daughter the older of the two, well here she is, she does not drink pints of Guinness as a rule, but she likes to grab a drop or two from my glass for Saint-Patricks Day.

AM I AN ARTIST????

2007-08-28T09:39:00.000-07:00

The question as to weather I am or not an artist is one which I cannot answer but it seems that no one ever bothers to look at these messages I place on the world wide web. Am I a voice crying in the wilderness? Who benifits from my work?

THE SUMMER CONCERTS

2007-08-03T06:57:00.001-07:00

BRALL was back and the music was good. I did many studies of the musicians and the singers during the rehersals and several on the night itself.

PORTRAIT

2007-07-25T05:56:00.000-07:00

My friend, also called ERIC who plays the Bodhran, a traditional Irish instrument. This portrait is not bad by all accounts.

HOLY COMMUNION

2007-06-14T13:46:00.000-07:00

My darling daughter Lucy made her first holy Communion last sunday and was as beautiful as a picture, even more so. I'm sure you would agree!

The morning after the nignt before.....

2007-06-07T06:44:00.000-07:00

Well let's change the script! Hope that all of you out there who call in regularly find the below effort worthy of contemplation. The festival of books called 'Etonnant Voyageur' is over now and the weather was certainly astonishing for those not used to our little costal storms. The Belem was in port and looking good.

SUNDAY MORNING

2007-05-20T02:35:00.000-07:00

I wish I could say it's a beautiful Sunday morning but ... there you go. It is, shall we say, GREY but look on the bright side, it's not raining, yet...

I often say to people, -if you don't like the weather here, like in Ireland, just wait 10 mins. The sun is always shinning it's just the clouds are in the way.

At mass this morning, yes, I go... the second reading from St. John apocalypse has a sentence interesting in the extreme, 22 17, The Spirit and the Bride, L'Esprit et L'Epouse disent...

The old argument about God's sex comes to mind. God as the beloved, the wife, The father and why not the mother,the lover, the partner, the confident, the best pal. How far removed from the authoritarian,vengeful old fellow sitting up in the heavens with the white beard ready to squash the life out of us if we don't do what we're told I like the feeling of intimicy that this notion gives me. What do you think?????

A friend of mine has a blog called The Sanguine Fan, have a decco as we say in Dublin, or a look if you'd prefer.

THE BOOK ON GLENSTAL

2007-05-19T01:50:00.000-07:00

Several people have contacted me about my little work on the Abbey. It contains over 28 watercolours of interest and is bi-lingual, ie English and French, Anglais et Francais.

The translation was done by a pro not me so it is correct in every way. If you'd like a copy let me know 15 € plus some postage.

GLENSTAL ABBEY, Limerick, IRELAND

2007-05-18T02:43:00.001-07:00

The abbey of Glenstal which is to be found in Co. Limerick just close to my birthplace is one of those places which very few people can be ambivolent about. I have written and illustrated a little book about the place and my opineon about it. It is sold in the Abbey shop and has had some success. The below is one of the many illustrations to be found in the booklet. Should you like a copy it cost about 15 € and is called "GLENSTAL, visitors view of the Abbey". Don't hesitate to contact the Abbey shop or myself at eric.duhan@wanadoo.fr

IRISH MARINE ARTIST

2007-05-15T09:41:00.000-07:00

At last I have had someone make a comment on what I have been doing here on this little blog, I was beginning to have my doubts as to if anyone really does read these ramblings. Keep the comments comming and spread the wword if you find what I do of interest. It's tough at times to be all alone and without outside stimulation, especially for an Irishman in France.

The above aquarelle is of the ramparts just about the area of the Grand Porte here is Saint-Malo. Let me know what you think!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

THE WAITING'S OVER

2007-05-12T07:52:00.000-07:00

The waiting is over and SARKO is it. Let's hope that he fullfiles the great trust placed in him by the people of France. The little Maltese faux-pas will be forgotten eventually if he gets the economy going as he wishes.

My paintings are now available at www.yessy.com/ericduhan

the above is Saint-Sulpice in Paris as seen and read about in Dan Browns Da Vinci Code

Yessy > Eric DUHAN > Gallery > Irish musicans,

2007-05-04T06:20:00.000-07:00

Yessy > Eric DUHAN > Gallery > Irish musicans,

Election hangover

2007-04-26T06:07:00.000-07:00

Well the first part is all over, Royal or Sarko?

Personally I'm frightened of both but not for the same reasons. If you want my opinon then feel free to ask me by contacting this blog, then I might have a notion if anyone ever does read these or if in fact they are a secret plot to get people to talk about themselves and divulge the intimate secrets which make them... well, themselves.

While waiting for the next installment in two weeks have a 'decco' as we say in Dublin at the painting herewith.

Election Blues

2007-04-21T06:32:00.000-07:00

The day is nearly upon us. The French nation is about to go to the polls and start the process of electing the new President of the Republic. I can't vote, as I'm Irish

and not about to give up my own nationality to take that of my lady wife. Our kids are for the moment of both nationalities but I believe that on their majority they will have to choose one or the other.

The prognostic is that one of the 12 candidates will be elected. Ha ha, I hear you say, but to tell you the truth each and every person I have spoken to has been incapable of giving an indication of the 'right' person to choose. Who ever it is is going to have his/her work cut out for him/her as the whole system here needs to looked at seriously. I am of course, 'extreme centre', I never discuss politics or religion either in a bar or on my blog. The reform of the institutions of the Republic and especially the crippling civil service is a must, the disasterous 35 hour week as it exists needs to be scuttled. The European central Banks strong Euro policy is distroying the fabric of the Union as much as the hiatous of the French and Dutch NO to the late silly and enormous European constitution.

Whoever gets in better be able for a fight because there are large numbers of people who want no change and that my friends would be the most disasterous thing for everyone.

After that little bit of self expression I better post a painting to soften the page.

Spring has sprung

2007-04-20T06:26:00.000-07:00

The mighty Belem, three master, in the port of Saint-Malo. Its a dream to paint.

Mont Saint-Michel

2007-04-16T03:51:00.000-07:00

The most beautiful site and sight in a world occupied by man and women must be the fabulous monastery/city of the Arch-Angel Saint-Michael. The winged angel covered in gold leaf is crushing the dragon/serpent. The beautiful medieval armoured warrior protects the bay and the surrounding salt marches. If you ever get over to this area don't miss it. A visit to the city without going as far as the monastery is a bit like having a wonderful lunch but not having the desert. The lamb is particularly quoted and is 'pré salé' because of its feeding grounds.

Major Expo in minor city

2007-04-13T05:54:00.000-07:00

Does anybody ever read these musings?

I'm letting you know that I will be exposing some work at the chapelle Saint-Sauveur here in Saint-Malo, intra muros (inside the city walls to those non latin scolars amongst you). Saturday and Sunday the 14 15 April.

Calm Weather for the Fort National, St-Malo

2007-04-10T01:55:00.000-07:00

The sea
calm
The sky
criss-crossed
by
travellers
in the air
The rock
solid?
The sea soft?
Little do you know!

The Family

2007-04-07T02:38:00.000-07:00

In thinking about the events of the last few weeks in my family I was taken by the continunity which is 'the family'. That is why I have made this compilation of photos including my grandfather, my mother and my own wife and children. In reality we all co-exist within each other and even if we do not feel inhabited by the ghosts of those gone before us they are as much a reality as we are. This is what we mean by 'the communion of saints' which we speak about in church.

Family get-together

2007-04-03T09:36:00.000-07:00

The four boys and the four girls who constitute our family, the DUHAN'S of 12 Wolfe Tone Street, are gathered here to celebrate the funeral of our mother. I say celebrate because it was an occasion of relativly gentle and careing communion. We were, where possible, seconded by our husbands, wives, boyfriends or girlfriends and especially our own children whose task in the future will be to do as we have done and put each of us to rest as the time comes. The children enjoyed each others company and while effected by our and their own loss helped us to relativise the situation and sense the continuity which is 'the family'. My mother was a raven beauty in her day and her physical traits were written in the eyes and faces of many of her children, grandchildren, and even great-grandchildren. Her legacy to our world is not without merit, she has left music, sculpture, writing and painting to say the least, but more importantly a careing tribe of individuals who survive in the chaos which we call modern living. The common link is the family, her family. God bless you Christina, and as we say in Ireland, may he keep you and our Dad John, in the palm of his hand until we meet again.

Just for the record; John, Barry, Eric with little Kay in front, Joan the eldest, Mick d'artist, Patty and Sue.

YouTube - Broadcast Yourself.

2007-03-21T04:15:00.000-07:00

YouTube - Broadcast Yourself. storm video for you

Waves and the ramparts of St-Malo

2007-03-21T02:38:00.000-07:00

High Tide and storm over St-Malo

2007-03-20T09:37:00.000-07:00

YouTube - Broadcast Yourself.

2007-03-17T08:53:00.000-07:00

Click onto the attached and get a low down on the man .YouTube - Broadcast Yourself.

SAINT PATRICK'S DAY

2007-03-16T08:50:00.000-07:00

HAPPY Saint PATRICK'S DAY... Bon Fête de St-Patrick... Là Fhéile Pàdraig maith aguibh go léir...

Sun and Savage seas

2007-03-15T09:32:00.000-07:00

Often when the storm ends we have superb sunshine but wild seas

Pure Fog

2007-03-14T10:14:00.000-07:00

This morning the fog was thick, the sea was a distant sound, muffled. My minds eye placed the familiar landmarks in their positions as I arrived into the city. My walk around the city walls was like the images we see of angelic figures wandering around in Heven, all blured images, shadows of people and places we think we know. Then... a sound, a seagul expressing his displeasure at some henious crime perpetrated upon him brought me back to Ireland, Kilkee to be precise, and my first girlfriend, for whom my total admiration was seamless. She too had finished her 'Leaving Cert' (final exams before University and the rest of one's life). We were on the rocks called the Pollock holes and we kissed. Afterwards, I wrote a poem, the only line of which I still remember is; "such a pure thing to kiss in the whiteness of the fog with its endless invisiability inviting you and I too live forever".

Then I was seventeen, now a little older but still a hopeless romantic, some might even say just hopeless .

Look

2007-03-09T03:19:00.000-08:00

Looking out to sea
you see what I can see
between you and me
it is quite lovely
which is certainly more
than we can say about
this bit of poetry

Beautiful day for a storm.

2007-03-08T02:54:00.000-08:00

It's stormy here with the wind ripping through the city, the sea is more than wild but the sunshine is vivid, the visability sublime, and the colours exquisit. The wind tugged on my hat as I made my way around the ramparts this morning. It's still blowing a storm and a door is banging in the distance. I feel the wind stealing in and creeping around my ankles through the cracks in the windows and doors of the building. Eventually I will get up and close the door correctly but first I have to finish writing this for you.

Lunar Eclips

2007-03-05T11:45:00.000-08:00

The moon, like a camembert being attacked by group of French diners, disapeared little by little last saturday night.

Old Faithful

2007-03-03T06:04:00.000-08:00

My sister Patty giving time and much affection to the auld ones, Mother dear to the left and Nancy O'Brien RIP to the right.

Nancy O'Brien RIP

2007-02-27T23:20:00.000-08:00

Seldom do we come into contact with someone who exudes affection, good humour and patience for a short time but over an entire lifetime it is practially unknown. Nancy was one of those people, never a cross word or a bad tempered jest. My daughter Lucy asked me about her relationship to me and it took me some time to explain and what I said is not even adequate. Nancy was a second mother to me. Someone who was always there, ready to listen and help, she often spoiled me and took my defence when I did wrong. A song was never far from her lips and even now I an hear her singing 'Sean South from Garryowen', or 'The Galway shawl'.

She was the most gentle of ladies and will always be with me, I know that she is up there now looking down and wondering what all the fuss is for as her funeral is planned. No doubt she will enjoy the wake much more than the funeral service and I will be surprised if the above mentioned songs don't get a tearful airing.

The return of Lucy

2007-02-23T03:55:00.000-08:00

Lucy is back from Grenoble and her skiing holidays with her cousins, we collected her from the airport yesterday and brought her back to Saint-Malo where she dazzeled us with her beauty and personality. She wrote a poem/song to celebrate her return to the family. The four of us had dinner and I think we all realised how wonderful it was to be back together.

Birmingham oh Birmingham

2007-02-22T02:49:00.000-08:00

Just in the door literally from a 5 day trip to the megalopolis of Birmingham where I saw great things, to be precise we, (my daughter Louise, my wife Colette and myself that is) spend some time in my sisters house in Solihull from where we made forays into the hinterland to visit the birthplace of Shakespeare in Stratford upon Avon amongst other place. The weather while bright was too cold for me to ply my watercolours thus I came back with photographic memories only.

The scones with jam and clotted cream were good but not as good as those from Cornwall. My sister insisted on having a family Christmas on the Saturday 17 February and had my nephew Kevin and family as well as my niece and her Richard de Dejay (sounds almost french). Tony my first Cousin and Wife compleated the picture. The evening was a sucess with my sister trying to kill us all with her splendid cooking and baking. It will certainly take me a week to loose the kilos attained while a guest in Solihull.

I'm amazed at the relative discipline of our Anglish neighbours as they Q'ed, the friendliness while walking in the park and the relative absence of 'dog shit' on the streets. The driving on the moterways was civilised, painless, polite and efficient. The return to France revealed Presidential candidates worthy of a comedy sketch, tons of 'Dog shit' on the streets and morose people with the sunshine gone out of their hearts (at least for the moment). I hope things get better soon and that the winter/election desperation depression is shrugged off as quickly as possible. Live and let live.

Music festival Saint-Malo

2007-02-10T09:04:00.000-08:00

Each year in July /early August we have the "Music Festival" which brings together orchestras and choirs in various states of readiness, if you get my meaning. The one constant is Herr Brall of Dusseldorf who with a rod of iron cajols and teases the best sound from a wonderful collection of guy's and doll's of various ages from his home city and environs. The musicians come to St-Malo as much out of respect from Herr Dr. Brall as for the money. Many bring their families and indeed several have kith and kin who sing in the choir. They also come because they like the beach and the sea and when you visit the landlocked city you understand why. St-Malo opens its gates from this group each year and is rearly if ever decived by the results of the work put in.

I hope one day the city authorities realise the great good done by this man and his group and make an effort to recognise the fact with a Legion d'honneur, or at least the medal offered to many by the Ministry of Culture.

Herr Brall is a huge man with a huge ability to bring happiness to others. I hope he shall continue to come here for as long as he wants. I for one will be always happy to see him.

DUSSELDORFS (IRISH) GERMAN JAPONESE BRIGADE

2007-02-09T04:14:00.000-08:00

Naoka is one of life's wonderful people, she is Japanese, artistic, ( she plays the most awkward instrument )and above all a lover of humanity. Humanity in the form of Gernot, a french horn player in the Dusseldorf opera orchestra.

This Gernot is a strange lad, although German he was brought up in Dublin and he has never lost the Celtic boyish charm that plagues us Irish until old age and can make some of us insuportable.

The two of the above have started taking Irish dancing classes in Dusseldorf and from what I saw the Riverdance company might as well start looking for new jobs.

While out to dinner in a typical dusseldorf kneipe we had schweinehaxen mit kartofflen und saurkraut and a reasonable quantity of very local beer.

Out in 'God's sweet air' afterwards, I noticed a gentleman of the roads huddeling in the cold and wished him good night. His immediate reaction was to ask where I was from in near perfect English and when advises of my Hibernian connections he offered to sing his favorite irish song. The rendition aided by his guitar was spectacular and suggested that we should not judge the homeless/sans abri too quickly.

As he sang his soul shone bright on that dark and cold night.

Paris by Day

2007-02-03T06:51:00.000-08:00

This is the painting I had tried to put up for my visit to paris during the weekend, better late than never.

Ships In

2007-02-03T06:39:00.000-08:00

I just been down town in Saint-Malo to take the picture of a 100 year old gentleman. I am going to sent it to his nephew who is for the moment in Florida working on a book, and unable to attend the celebrations. The man in question is an ex diplomat, son of a French diplomat of good family who served as French consul in Dublin at the time of the opening of the first Dail(Irish parliament) at the Mansion House (residence of the Lord Mayors of Dublin).

My daughter yesterday gave an exposé at school on the subject of the irish who faught in the British army during the first world war using the family photographs and material available she outlined the subject well. She spoke of Big Jack DUHAN her paternal great grandfather, a sergent major in the Royal Munster Fusaliers who was born in 1877 and served in India and South Africa before WWI.

That the man I was just with was active in Dublin( his University career in Trinity ) at the same time is wonderful. The world in which he finds himself so far removed from the Edwardian time in which he spent his youth. Let no man say "Thus far and no further"

Tomorrow we're off to Dusseldorf for five days. I'll let you know how we got on. Bye for now and sing Happy Birthsday for Mr. Alfred Blanche probably the last man alive who sat in on the birth of a great nation.

Paris by day

2007-02-02T07:04:00.000-08:00

A quick run up to paris yesterday, so quick that I did not see much of the capital but the insides of trains albeit the TGV (the newest generation which are splendid and comfortable), the metro and the exhibition halls at the Porte de Versailles.

CONNEMARA SEA SCAPE

2007-01-31T02:09:00.000-08:00

When the waves crash on the west coast of Ireland they send vibrations throught the whole island and beyond, these vibrations eventually get as far as me here in Saint-Malo and I rejoice.
The light shining on the Aran islands is difused by an ambiant humidity which is so like the early morning light here in Brittany that sometimes I loose sight of the fact that I am in one place and not the other. The solidity of the rocks and the liquidity of the sea sometimes seems to inverse in my minds eye as I sense the vibrations of both.

This painting I did on the Aran island called Inismor, or the big island, in English. I was the guest of two wonderful people and their family who lived in a beautifully build modern round house made of the local stone. Their welcome made the Irish formula "Cead Milé Failte," which means, a hundred thousand welcomes, seem as real as it is in such places.

TRINITY COLLEGE LIBRARY

2007-01-30T09:21:00.000-08:00

The centre of Dublin is crowned by college green, the Georgean facade of Trinity faces the old Parliament building which now houses the Bank of Ireland.

If you wander into Dublin someday make the effort to walk under the large portico of the College and as you do you will step into a space which is as vital today as it ever was, the square in front of you is splendid and relativly silent after the cars and buses of Dublin. The bell-tower stands solidly at its centre inviting you to walk under it and do a 360° turn.

The library contains Brian Boru's harp and the magnificent Book of Kells.

Not to be missed!

FINE TIME

2007-01-30T09:05:00.000-08:00

Today the weather was magnificent, the sun shone on the sea as I watched a squadron of mine sweapers arrive into the bay of Saint-Malo in indian file, they were dwarfed by the huge white bulk of the Pont-Even, the flag-ship of Brittany Ferries, as she sailed towords the U.K. The sea was billiard table flat with hardly a breath of air pushing tiny wavelets towards the sandy shore. As I walked around the ramparts I reflected on my week in Ireland and how different the two countries are. On the inward journey as I came closer to Irelands green shores I felt more and more Breton/French.
On the way home to my family and friends here in Saint-Malo I became more and more certain of my Irishness.

The painting herewith is the replica of Endevour, captain Cooks ship, which was in port here sometime ago. It is a watercolour and has a matching view of the ship from the stern.

ON THE EDGE IN IRELAND

2007-01-30T02:13:00.000-08:00

A pal of mine called Eoin O'Brien told me of one of his relations who passed away recently in Australia, he was by all accounts a bit of a 'tare-a-way', and his mother had carved on his toombstone.

"Unless you live on the edge you are taking up too much room".

What do you think?

DUBLIN CAN BE HEVEN

2007-01-29T10:01:00.000-08:00

'Dublin can be heven with coffee at eleven and a stroll on Stephens green.'
I have just returned from a trip to Dublin, Limerick and Glenstal Abbey in County Limerick.

A mixture of business, culture, family, friends, painting and a wee bit of religion too boot. I shall write more about the subject over the next few days but in the meantime I will include a watercolour of a Dubliner who turned out to be a German jazz musician drinking a pint of Guinness.

STORM'S OVER

2007-01-19T07:33:00.000-08:00

The storm's over

The tide's out

On the beach men are bending

Searching for cockles

Boats too lean over

waiting for tides to re-erect them.

The sea has run off into infinity

waiting to be called back

again and again and again........

St- Malo's flag

2007-01-17T07:58:00.000-08:00

I have painted the city flag or 'pavillion' as they say in French. This one flies above the French tricolour in the city by order of the King and Emperor for services rendered by the city to the French state. Every citizen of the region knows it well.

Wind whistles

2007-01-17T07:51:00.000-08:00

The shrouds all sing together when the wind tickles them.
The flags flap and stand to attention when the wind calls.
The sailors do their thing while the ordinary mortels run for cover.
The storm is here!

Cathedral square in the wind

2007-01-17T07:36:00.000-08:00

When it rains it rains

Lucy's sailing class

2007-01-15T01:27:00.000-08:00

Sunday morning, blue skies, the sea formed after the storms of the last few days. There were up to fifty surfers out in the bay in the warm 14° sunshine. Believe me this is not the normal temp. for January. The sound of the bells of all the churches in the town is wafting towards us as my wife and I stroll down the prominade. A great day to be alive.

WEEKEND Pen-hir, Finister

2007-01-13T08:19:00.000-08:00

The weekend is upon us and people are rushing around looking for value in the winter sales. The value for money syndrome is evident and the wise words of Oscar Wilde ring in my ears as I remember his dicton, "people who know the price of everything and the value of nothing". I am a fan of hand-made tweeds, fine wools and mohairs, clothing of impecable cut and quality. These days few and far between alas, (I don't want to sound like an old fart but I love the attention to detail) we are surounded by the consume and throw-away attitude. Most of the clothing looks as it could after months of hard usuage when it is bought. Enought bile now, hope you likethe painting.

Cameret Sur Mer:

2007-01-11T05:20:00.000-08:00

This morning the wild west wind tugged at my hat as I walked round the ramparts, so much so that I took it off and carried it in my hand. The sea was emerald flecked with white, and the waves crashed themselves on the rocks with a thunderous roar. The moon looked like a half-a-crown buried in the light blue sky, clear except for the air-line trails criss-crossing the sky making a tartan pattern. The sea-gulls kept a low profile standing in the lee of the corsaire mansions nestling together inside the ramparts and awaiting the tourists who would be pleased to trade a bit of their morning bagette or croissant for a photograph.

Fort National

2007-01-09T02:45:00.000-08:00

Now that the girls are back to school without any problems I can restart my daily tour of the city ramparts. the sea was formed this morning and the windblowing wildly from the south west. The light was wonderful and the rain held off. The Fort National looked as wonderful as ever with the aspect of a childrens toy fort awaiting two little boys to start playing soldiers. I paint this fort often and include here an oil painting done during the summer months, and yes, the sea does get as blue as that.

Monday morning

2007-01-08T02:18:00.000-08:00

The girls went back to school this morning with the sun only just comming up over the eastern horizon. The storm of Christmas and New Year is over and yesterday we celebrated the coming of the three wise men in French fashion by having a Galette des Rois, a sort of tart with fangipan inside in which is placed a miniature figurine. When sliced, my younger daughter who was under the table called out the name of the person to recieve each part of the tart. It was very strange but she managed to choose the right one and was given the paper crown.

2007-01-06T08:57:00.001-08:00

It's stormy here with the wind ripping through the city, lead grey sky and the last of the christmas decorations flying by. The sea is turquoise, raging and formed. The waves crashing on the ramparts and the various islands off the coast. Such light as I find only here and in Connamara or the aran islands.

Tro Breizh

2007-01-06T08:24:00.000-08:00

Each year there is a pilgrimage from one of the cathedral cities in Brittany to another. This celebrates the founding saints of the Breton religous calender. The sight of hundreds of people of all ages and social conditions moving in silence or singing hymns with their parish banners flying in the wind is unusual these days but this 'protest' is happy peaceful and colourful. The Impressionists liked to paint the 'Breton pardons' and did it much bette than I but my humble effort which you see here shows the arrival at Saint-Malo of this manifestation last summer. I hope you like it.

Breton Dancers prepare

2007-01-06T08:07:00.000-08:00

Each year we have a fokelore festival where various groups of musicians and dancers come over here from other parts of Brittany and from much futher afield to exhibit their passion for traditional dancing. The colours are magnificent and the atmosphere electric.

Sailing ships at dock in Saint-Malo

2007-01-06T07:58:00.000-08:00

The Sailing ship is still a reality here in Saint-Malo where the tradition of sailing and maratime activity goes back to the founding of the city in Roman times. The corsaires and filibustres who frequented the taverns of this port were well known and feared names on the high seas even more so than Capt. Jack Sparrow who is so well known by todays cinema goers. Some of the stories are worthy of a Holliwood production or two. My father was a seaman and I was born not far from the docks myself 52 years ago so my love of all ships sailing or Cargo is unconditional. By the way if you want to buy it don't hesitate to get in touch.

Stormy weather

2007-01-06T07:45:00.000-08:00

It's stormy here with the wind ripping through the city, lead grey sky and the last of the christmas decorations flying by. The sea is tourquoise raging and formed. The waves chrashing on the ramparts and the various islands off the coast. Such light as I find only here and in Connamara or the aran islands.

Artist on the edge

2007-01-04T08:20:00.000-08:00

When I write I do not wish to impose or even suggest an ideology. I wish to give your mind a rest so that the words frame my paintings, so do not expect great or even mediocre philosophy.

Budda said that the truth can not be spoken maybe that's why I paint. A creative person is nearly always a rebel and tends to know the difference between the intelegent and mearly intellectual and a by product of creativity is happiness. You should avoide any painter who takes himself seriously especially a portrait painter because if you find his work flatterning it is not honest. Many have made an art of flattery itself but I can't do that.

As well as that I find that I can't lean on the foundations of tradition but must try to escape it while at the same time honoring its achivements. I have seen what happens when we set out to distroy traditions in the China of the cultural revolution, the Roumania of Ceausescu or the killing fiels of Cambodia under Pol Pot. Let us not be worshipers of or tyranised by our past.

With this in mind I hope you find what I do interesting and relaxing.

By the way I am Irish but live on the edge of Europe by the sea in Brittany, in the city of Saint-Malo. The light here sings to me.