Tuesday, March 1, 2011


Conamara - 0il/panel - 7"x5" - sold

Of this shy, Conamara day.
The saxophone catches onto
Some riff of murmur,
Deep beneath the roots of the mountains,
Where granite relents, giving way
In tears, to the blanket poultice of the bog.

from Black music in Conamara by John O'Donohue

Composed this gestural and fluid landscape in the heart land of Conamara, on the road towards Clifden (An Clochán)

- Richard

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