Living Seasonally Winter Session

The months swing around. The seasons come, and go again. As the days here in Dublin get shorter and the nights longer, I am preparing for the winter.There are practical things, like buying a new blanket for my bed and stocking up on woolies; and then there is the mental shift, understanding that the darkness has something to serve, for in the dark the light is born.It is only really in latter years that I have started to understand the darkness more; an understanding which has been augmented by appreciation of the ancient rhythm of the celtic calendar, itself underscored with the truth of constant change. Tuning into this seasonal pull and pace is a way, I find, to steady myself and connect me deeper to the natural cycles of life. I find it a beautiful thing, for nature knows when it is time to bud, then bloom, and it knows so instinctually when it is time to rest.We resist so much of that, with our electric cities and the constant murmur to ‘do’ and push at pace.I have come to think of the seasons as powerful metaphors, offering us questions from which to explore our own currents, visions and purpose. The turning inwards of nature offers the questions of, 'what is wintering in your own life?', and then, 'what wants to be seeded?'.But winter is a time too for a slower germination.I remember the first bulb I planted. I was about 6 or 7 years old and was given a hyacinth in school. But in order for it to germinate I had to keep it in the dark, for what seemed like an eternity. I hid the pot under a bookshelf in my classroom but every so often would peak a glance, staring into the darkness for signs of life. I was doubtful, very doubtful. ‘How could something grow in there?’, I wondered.But the conditions for growth have a mystery to them, and little did I know back there that darkness was growth’s aid.Then one day, kneeling down of the cold classroom floor, and scooting further under the bookshelf to get a glimpse of the plant pot, I spotted it. A green tuft popping out of the clay, edging towards the light. I’ll never forget that hyacinth. It turned out to be purple and had the most magnificent evocative fragrance. All born in darkness.The winter is a time to turn inwards, to let our own hyacinths come to their gradually life. It is time for us to honour our own wintering, as we honour our own growth. It is time too to warm our hearts.All of this; this wintering, this honouring, has led me to develop  this coming session of ‘Living Seasonally’. Over the course of 8 days, there will be a chance to gather online, prepare for the season ahead, turn inwards and trust our own rhythms. There will be time too to warm the heart- with poems and the sharing of stories. And time to find a sense of rest and renewal through meditations, journal practices and creative prompts. I’ll be sharing some seasonal recipes as we all learn to nurture ourselves, and others, from a place of connection and wisdom.This is living seasonally for me.We will be live from 4th- 11th November. I would love for you to join me.Registration is now open. Head on here to find out more and if you have any questions please get in touch.Until soon…

Creative Islanders: Alison Ospina

The Creative Islanders is a new interview series showcasing some of Ireland’s brightest creative talent and enterprise. It is about people who are stepping into their dreams, purpose and possibilities and embracing their one wild life. The interviews give a rare ‘behind the scenes’ glimpse into creative practice, motivations and mindsets- shining a light on what makes people tick, and how, collectively, Ireland is alive with creative possibility.

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Back in August I went on some gallivants around the South West of Ireland. I had travelled in search of the wildness of ocean but in going I also had an ear out for innovative talent and creativity which had not previously been on my radar. It doesn’t take long in West Cork to find it for it seems to be flowing out of its very sinews. Within hours I was already being invited to exhibition openings and into artist’s homes. Fortune continued to favour me, for I got invited along to a series of short talks by makers in the region who were hosting a showcase exhibition called ‘Seven Hands’. And it was there I met Alison.Hearing Alison talk about her work was a pure joy. She radiates enthusiasm, knowledge and a pure love of her craft. I have never met anyone more excited about chairs in all my life!Alison is no ordinary chair maker however. She brings such respect to her material (hazelwood), that one could also describe her as a diviner of chairs- asking the wood how it wants to be shaped, what form it wants to take as she selects pieces for the legs, arms and back, and honouring the soul or essence of the tree from which it originated. That connection to source is carried right through to the final product. With some of the bark stripped and some left raw, it makes for tactile, textured and strikingly characterful chairs which are a delight look at, touch and sit on. The hazelwood Alison uses is all grown locally and sustainably. Plus, because of its growing cycle it means that the winter months are quite for her. During those times she writes. She is the author of two books, with a third on the way. She is a teacher too, sharing her craft and passion in workshops in her West Cork studio.So, it turns out that I already knew Alison’s husband, who I met through Social Entrepreneurs Ireland. Mmm… small world Ireland indeed!With pleasure, I hand you over to Alison Ospina. In doing so, I wish you could sit on one of her chairs as you read this. You’ll just have to enlist your imagination and pay a visit to West Cork soon… 

What makes you tick? What motivates you?I love trees and I love wood, I love working with it, polishing it, touching it, looking at it. I also have a major obsession with chairs!What keeps you in ireland?I moved to West Cork almost 20 years ago and it was here that I started making Green Wood Chairs. Here I learnt to make elegant, sculptural chairs that reflect the grace and beauty of the trees they come from. All my materials are grown in my immediate locality - my chairs and I are rooted in the West Cork countryside.What do you do just for the love of it? All of my work is done for the love of it - I can’t stop, it makes me feel so good!What does the creative process teach you? Initially I was so excited about making chairs from hazel that I rushed at it with only the final result in mind. Over the years I have learned to enjoy the process. I am methodical, I take my time, correct mistakes and focus on getting it as close to perfect as possible - that’s where the real satisfaction lies -  I guess it teaches me self- discipline.Why do you do what you do?I used to work in psychiatry - I’m fascinated by people and what makes them tick. I have discovered that there is nothing more therapeutic than working with your hands to create useful, beautiful things. I enjoy the making and the learning processes and I enjoy the feel of developing skills - it is satisfying and makes me feel fulfilled.What were some of the key moments along your own journey that helped you to get where you are today?When I started teaching in adult education I had to write a module descriptor for Green Wood Furniture Making. I was forced to really pick apart every process and describe it in writing. It was so hard to do but ultimately really useful.The next key moment was writing my first book  “Green Wood Chairs.”  Writing down all my methods and techniques turned my practice into something accessible to others. I now find that people who see the book, get inspired and have a go at green wood chairmaking themselves.

How do you get unstuck? Any secret tools? If I do not feel inspired for a while, I do something completely different and unrelated. I read a lot of fiction and I write (non fiction) books. My work schedule is dictated by my materials to a large extent:  Hazel is coppiced in December/January, it is left to stand until April/May, I make chairs and teach courses from May to September and I write books and teach in college from September to May.Where do you find inspiration? Any hidden gems? Much of my inspiration comes from seeing the bare branches of trees in Winter silhouetted against the clear grey sky. The shapes of the negative spaces intrigue me, these are the shapes I want to incorporate into next year’s chairs.How do you get through tough times? What sustains you? Through the tough times I am sustained by my husband (who says, “It doesn’t matter if you have made a loss this year - you are an artist - look at Van Gogh, he never sold any paintings in his lifetime”, my family and my dog who loves me unconditionally!What key lessons have your learned about doing business or being a creative practitioner along the way? What have you learned from your ‘failures'?I have learned that it is very difficult earning a crust as a creative practitioner. I have done a few courses for entrepreneurs and read lots of business books and come to the conclusion that with marketing, advertising and selling there is no “one answer.” Everything works a little bit, so you have to do everything. I have also learnt that self-employed people are generally very resourceful, reliable and hard working. I have learned (from my many failures) to never participate in craft fairs - people do not buy chairs from craft fairs!! In the early years, when my work did not sell, I got disheartened and felt that I should not be making chairs that nobody wanted. However I could not stop and after 20 years I have developed a high level of skill and now at last people are buying my work. In my case it has been a long, long game.Do you have a morning routine? Or other creative habits or rituals? I do not have a morning routine but after finishing work I always sweep the floor and put my tools away because nothing makes me want to work more than a tidy workshop! What books have inspired you? Or what websites do you turn to? After trees, books are my main source of inspiration. I have books about Wharton Escerick (Studio and Collection)  Sam Maloof (The Furniture of Sam Maloof) and George Nakashima (The Soul of a Tree). The book that started me off in furniture making is “The Complete Book of Shaker Furniture".  I love big, shiny, hardback books - I even like the smell of them!What advice do you wish you had received as you were stepping onto your own creative path? “Keep at it, believe in yourself “- I know it sounds corny but it is true. And what advice would you give to your future self? "Keep an open mind, keep designing and innovating -  look for ways to help yourself progress and develop”“Listen to your students - they know nothing and they know everything” (cryptic -  but teachers will know what I mean)What is coming up next for you? I am working in collaboration with Kerry Woollen Mills to make a Limited Edition Winter Collection of upholstered chairs. They have dyed a batch of woollen fabric especially for Green Wood Chairs.The Collection will be shown at an exhibition at the RIAI in 8 Merrion Square, Dublin November 17th - 27th.Green Wood Chairs will be profiled on an RTE programme entitled “Designing Ireland” due to be aired this month.I am writing a new companion book to “Green Wood Chairs” called “Green Wood Stools” due to be published in September 2016.

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Visit Alison's website Green Wood Chairs

Thank you so much Alison- such a delight to learn more about your work and process. - Clare x

Creative Islanders: Emily Archer

 The Creative Islanders is a new interview series showcasing some of Ireland’s brightest creative talent and enterprise. It is about people who are stepping into their dreams, purpose and possibilities and embracing their one wild life. The interviews give a rare ‘behind the scenes’ glimpse into creative practice, motivations and mindsets- shining a light on what makes people tick, and how, collectively, Ireland is alive with creative possibility.

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Artist, activist, shining human, Emily Robyn Archer exudes creative flair. She brings passion and purpose to her interactions, coupled with a curiosity which takes them ever deeper. A graduate from The School for Social Entrepreneurs, Emily is the founder of Cre8 Sustainability, working in schools to marry art practice with environmental awareness. She is known for her large scale installations, incorporating reclaimed and recycled materials as well as her hydroponic window installations, a method she uses for growing plants in water without the need for soil. With a love of wild nature running through to her, Emily's work is an embodiment of this love and respect. It also acts as an exploration of how to engage humans with their environment in creative, educational, and mutually beneficial ways.There are many things I love about Emily- her zest for living, her commitment to friendship but mostly her simple presence, for never do you leave Emily's company without a renewed sense of hope and a reclaimed sense of possibility. Quite simply, she glows.With pleasure, I introduce you to Emily Robyn Archer...  

 What makes you tick? What motivates you?

I’ve always been motivated by our relationship to the environment. Nothing gets me like environmental injustice -I know there are many, many other hugely important issues; how we treat each other for instance, poverty, war hunger- the list is long. And I don’t see these things as isolated either. But for some reason since I was a little girl I connected with this idea that we could be living in our environment in a better way- in harmony with the planet and all the creatures that roam its surface with us. I spent so much time as a kid making drawings about it, trying to raise money, even staging my own protests! Nowadays my art practice is centered on environmental themes (not much has changed!) I work with issues like water, waste and especially climate change. I don’t know why I’m so focused on this I just always have been and I’m pretty sure I always will be in one way or another.I suppose if I peel back the layers I’m motivated simply by the natural world. It's a difficult one because it sounds cliched. But I really am totally in awe, inspired and stirred-up by what I see growing through the cracks in the pavement, or soaring over my head everyday. I can’t look at a tree in passing without delighting in it. 

What keeps you in Ireland?

That’s easy-  my community here. Old friends, new friends and of course family- I treasure them all. I also love living here- it's my home. I grew up here and that connection is really important to me. When I was a teenager my family lived abroad in Kenya for years so I got an idea of what its like to be foreigner in a foreign land. Being in Africa was an amazing experience in a so many different ways, and it made me value my own home place; that piece of land that I felt connected to. I was always sure that I wanted to live here.

What do you do just for the love of it?

Spending time hanging out with my family and friends. They are the stuff of life. It may be that unexpected pop around for tea, surprise visit and a long meandering conversation or all of the above if I’m lucky.

What does the creative process teach you?

My first creative coaches were my Mum and Dad. They’re both very creative in their own way- my Mum is a dancer and my Dad is a business man always coming up with new ideas. Mum instilled in us to never waste anything, every little thing has value and can be used again in a creative way. My Dad gave me my first official art lesson- the table was set with paints, brushes and paper and we both sat down to paint together. The very first thing he taught me was that there was no such thing as a mistake, in fact you have to make mistakes to learn and make new and interesting things.I’ve really held on to these ideas in my own practice: I don’t get put off by what I don’t know yet or all the ‘mistakes’ I could potentially make while learning- I try to look at it as part of the process. I have a sort of ‘fortune favours the brave’ approach and usually find that if you put yourself out there and go for it- all sorts of wonderful things happen. My mum is probably happy that I work mainly with salvaged materials and am always trying to work out how to reuse and re-invent commonly undervalued or discarded materials.So 3 things I learnt from my creative process and am still learning today are

• That there is no such thing as mistakes. 
• Limits and parameters are sometimes great creative catalysts
• That there is a magic to opening up to possibilities

I take these learnings into other areas of my work: I run an initiative called Cre8 Sustainability that delivers environmental education and awareness raising projects with a creative edge. This can vary from teaching a group of city kids about urban growing by creating an upcycled hydroponic system with them for their school or getting teenagers interested in biodiversity by making seed bombs and teaching guerilla gardening tactics. Basically I feel that the creativity and its process are a really important part of the environmental movement and I’ve learnt from my work with Cre8 how powerful it can be in terms of getting people engaged, inspired and finally motivated. 

How do you get unstuck? Any secret tools?

Tidy my spaces: that’s a big one. I get stifled with too much stuff and mess around me. I take some time to remove whats not necessary, do some recycling or giving away and organize my living and work spaces. Then I sit down with a pen and notebook and go back to and reconnect with my core vision and mission.

How do you get through tough times? What sustains you?

I have found meditation really helpful in the past in terms of recognising and sitting with different emotions. Yoga helps me link mind and body too. But probably most of all- people- being with friends and family. I always delay sharing my feelings but when I do level with a friend and share what is going on I always feel better and have a different perspective on things. Another thing that really nourishes me or gets me through tough bouts of the blues is just being in nature: going on a wild walk, getting blasted by a bit of wind, looking at some amazing trees and realising that I am and we all are ‘only human’ at the end of the day.

Where do you find inspiration? Any hidden gems?

1. Walk out the door and bring the natural world into focus again
2. The wonderful work and vision of my friends and people in our community.
3. Books & publications & podcasts
4. Talking with my partner Sam! He’s always got an interesting perspective up his sleeve.

What key lessons have your learned about doing business or being a creative practitioner along the way? What have you learned from your 'failures'?

Key lessons: 

1. Find a vision that enlivens you
2. Keep doing what you are uniquely doing
3. Charge a proper fee for your work

Failures are of course all marvelous life lessons in disguise. I always think of Beckett’s words, ‘Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try Again. Fail again. Fail better.’  

Do you have a morning routine? Or other creative habits or rituals?

I can be counted on to use a steaming hot facecloth with essential oil to wake up myself up gently. I’d like to say I walk or do yoga every morning but it doesn’t happen that regularly. I do try and stretch and be mindful and gentle in the morning. In fact I can definitely say that I’m a believer in ‘gentle mornings’. This means taking it easy, not rushing, enjoying some good food and generally appreciating the morning that’s in it. If that also happens to involve a cup of tea in bed then even better!As for other rituals: I keep an online day planner- it includes priorities/focus for the week ahead, daily tasks and deadlines and also a ‘long finger’ list that I tackle when I get a quiet day, things can stay on this list for a long time but having them written down and organised in priority really helps me not to get overwhelmed by having ‘a million things to do’. I really enjoy being able to say to myself- ‘there’s going to be time for that.’ It is hard to really pinpoint a particular creative habit. I know I work best at night when everyone has gone to bed. I know I sometimes have to go on an aimless cycle or walk to let a creative solution or idea to spring up. Sometimes you can try and try and try sitting at a studio desk, and then the creative vision comes as you’re watching the ducks!   

What books have inspired you? Or what websites do you turn to? 

Most recently Burning Ice-Art and Climate Change. A collection of essays and artworks undertaken on an arctic expedition 'Cape Farewell' including insights from artists, writers. scientists.Art & Ecology Now, Thames & HudsonThis Changes Everything, Naomi KleinSecret Life of Plants, by Peter Tompkins and Christopher BirdMy favourite podcast is ‘On Being’ with Krista Tippett. One of my special pastimes, when I know I have the house to myself for a couple of hours, is to listen to this while cooking a lovely meal.

What advice do you wish you had received as you were stepping onto your own creative path?

Do exactly what you want to do, don’t worry about what others are doing or what other’s think you should be doing. Following your own interests and passions- they will fulfill you and excite you. Don’t limit yourself either- dream big. Oh and thanks to my friend Shrine who did say to me years ago “Give up your day job and go for it!”

And what advice would you give to your future self?

Grab a seat one of those solar powered airplanes and go on an adventure!

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 Emily's work is currently on show in Paris as part of an exhibition in the Centre Culturel Irlandais. The exhibition titled Et si on s’était trompé ? (What if we got it wrong ?) runs until November 4th.Link here to Emily's websiteAnd more on Cre8 Sustainability in this lovely video.Cre8 Sustainability from Ishka Films on Vimeo.

Blessed Momentum

 There are days when it is hard to stay motivated in business, and in life.As a freelancer, juggling many projects, with so much up and down, things can get messy. It is an ever fine tightrope walking between feeling the upward swing or edging into a downward spiral. And so often we are led to think that business, and life, is a linear process. But is so not.In fact the more I do business, and life, the more I realise it is clearly not so. Labyrinths seem more appropriate images to enlist and yet still we are continually barraged into thinking in linear patterns: growth, scale, expand, produce, exceed; growth, scale, expand, produce, exceed, succeed. Again.But the labyrinth has led me elsewhere.Having launched this website earlier this year, alongside a new business- Zen Hen-, while also keeping my photography business, yoga classes and my own art and yoga practices on the go, by August a deep part of myself just needed to wander. I headed out to the West of Ireland, and then to Morocco and Turkey. It was magical. It was filled with love and connection. My eyes landed on newness. It was abounding in beauty and elegance. I am so glad I went.But coming back into the flow of daily life here, things need my attention. So many things. And all week I have been almost paralysed by the sense and scale of it. ‘What next to do’? I have had the guilt trip, kicking myself for feeling I let my foot off the pedal.But that serves no one; not me, or not you, dear readers, dear friends.The fierce reality of all of this entrepreneurial lark is I am still figuring it out- how to run my own business while not running out of steam, how to keep finances in flow so that I too can thrive, how to deeply serve the needs of my clients from a place of integrity, love and openess. This is a work in progress. I am a work in progress. We all are.And so the learning is in this process too, and so we must proceed.  I believe in honesty and truth telling, which is why I am sharing this now. So lovely folks, I don’t have a Creative Islanders interview for you this week and I don't have my new e-course ready to launch yet either (which I had planned for a Monday start)… But I know they are coming. Why? Because they are in my heart, because they have energy of their own, because I know they are serving a need, and I know they want to emerge. I’ll get there. I know I will. It is just taking me a little longer than I originally hoped. And so I’d love for you to bear with me while I figure out how to steer this ship.The funny thing about labyrinths is that just when you think you have reached a dead end you turn a corner to realise you are right at the centre of things, into the heart of what matters, and you were never actually that far from it in the first place. The entrance and the centre have a proximity which the path belies.So often we look at other people in business, in life, and think that they have it all figured out and that things come so easily for them. I am as guilty of this as others- looking at my own role models and wishing, wishing… but behind the scenes we are all struggling with what we need to learn; our challenges lead us to our growth areas, our labyrinthal path is our very own training ground; tailor made to meet our own twisting and turning trajectory.It turns are that we are really all just seeking our way to the heart of things. And so I am grateful. Yes, grateful for it all. For this opportunity, for the not knowing, for the knowing, for the detours and mostly for the people I meet along the way.In fact, each morning as I wake up and put my feet on the ground, I say to myself, ‘I am grateful for this day’. Even on the days that are hard, even on the days that I want to turn in on myself, ‘I am grateful’. That alone helps to start the day on better footing. ‘Whatever comes, I am grateful for this day’.It took me about a month to make this little act a habit but it feels like it is there now- the moment my feet touch the ground, ‘I am grateful for this day’.  And that feels like a good place to begin, with pause, with gratitude for it all, over and over and over again. So I can take myself by the hand an lead myself to the next step, and then the glorious next step. For this is the labyrinth of life continuing with its own blessed momentum towards the heart of the matter. Always.

The Magic of Tidying

 I have been converted. To a tidy person. Which, believe me, is a mighty revelation.For years I have walked around with the label of ‘untidy’, which at times edged its way into the realms of ‘disorganised’, ‘scatty’ and even ‘lazy’. I have carried these internal labels like little scars, marking out some internal gauge of moralistic cleanliness and taking on the outer mantel of their meaning.Since as long as I can recall, I have been untidy. My room often looked like a bomb had hit it, with clothes piled up on a chair, a cluttered desk and warren of cables, books, art supplies and random bits and bobs. But it always bothered me. I would occasionally go on a tidying binge and for a few days my room would look ordered and beautiful, and with that order came a calmer mind. But the untidy demons would soon creep back in again, the bomb would explode and with it came a sense of unease in my own space. I could never quite get a handle on it. The label of ‘untidy’ didn't sit well with me but I could not seem to shake it.Then along came a book. I had seen the book in the shop on many an occasion but had walked by with resistance. I had read reviews and thought the converts sounded smug. But one day, about a month ago, I was in the bookshop and without really intending to I found myself purchasing a copy.The woman at the counter was a convert too. It took about 10 minutes to buy the book because she started to explain all the ways it had changed how she interacts with her home, and subsequently, her life. Now I was both intrigued and scared. Really? Do I really want to do this?I took the book to a coffee shop and started reading. I was immediately hooked. This simple little book, written by a tidying zealot, had some clues I had been seeking. Something clicked. Suddenly I could see a way for the untidy demons to be banished and with it the label, and the scars.The book? Well, many of you may have heard about it already- ‘The Magic of Tidying’ by Marie Kondo. Marie, from Japan, takes her lifelong love of tidying and has created a system of decluttering and sorting every item you own and then putting it back in its own designated place. She starts with the premise that we hold on to too much, and the things around us are mirrors to our lives. She asserts, strongly, that we must first discard items, starting one category at a time- clothes, then books, then music and making our way to the more sentimental- love letters and photos. Holding each item we ask it, ‘Does this bring me joy?’, and if not- out with it.I finished reading the book while I was in Morocco recently.  Upon returning, I had two days between another trip and I immediately jumped into the process. Never before had I been excited about tidying. Bags were filled for the charity shops. Papers were recycled. Other items repaired. Books given away. And space emerged. I now own about half of the things that I used too, my room looks like a miracle and I find myself actually enjoying folding things! And after all these years of thinking of myself as an untidy person I can finally let go of the blemish, knowing that lifelong habits can indeed change.The process has deep subtlety too. Our things tell a story of us. Our clothes give a message of how we are to be perceived; the things around us say much about how we value ourselves and our space; and the shape of our space speaks of how we nourish ourselves.I found myself looking at my clothes and realising they were carrying an old Clare around, one which I have outgrown and no longer identify with. I discarded the majority of them. And my underwear- well let’s just say, 90% of it was binned, and in its place I have bought myself some beautiful items which feel lovely on the skin and are a joy to wear. It changes things. My sock drawer has never looked as well and my wardrobe has an order which makes me enjoy choosing what I will wear each day because only items that bring me joy are waiting for me. I have a lot less but am a lot happier with what I have and feel grateful for my choices.Beyond ordering the physical space, I found that there have mental shifts too- and there continues to be. Arising out of the question, ‘How can I tidy my physical space?’ came, ‘How can I tidy my mental clutter?’ I have found myself diving deeper into my meditation practice, which is also having implications- healthy ones- on my creative practice. And there is more space around my heart. During the tidying process I cleared away some old letters and trinkets from past relationships; letting go with thanks and gratitude, but knowing that they are not serving me now. Something deep seems lighter.Similarly I found myself asking, ‘How can I clean up my business, my finances, my diet,  my thought patterns and other habits which are no longer serving me?’  Now, the more I keep my physical space tidy, the more I have space for these shifts too. It has only been a few weeks but I know the untidy demons have been banished, and in their place, somethings calmer, steadier and more spacious is arising. I have more time and mental energy to create, unweighed by the static of the holding on to things which have lost their valence and energy.This is powerful stuff and yes, I am indeed a convert. But now a tidy one. And I can barely believe these words are coming from me. My mother would be proud. I can't wait to show her my drawers!‘The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up’. The ‘magic’ is there for a reason.

On the Tale of Marrakech.

 

Ah, the delights. It had been on my wish list for a very long time. The thoughts of wandering a warren of red hued streets, of exploring a rich craft and design culture, of hearing the call to prayer and the guttural sounds of Arabic through the soundscape. Then there were thoughts of tagines, and rosewater, and Riads, and succulents, and even a nervous curiosity about what going to a local hammam would actually entail. I had wanted to go with my camera, knowing we would get lost only to find our way again. It all happened, on a whirlwind visit, which turned out to be just a taster. Now I want to return, for the place has so much intrigue and hospitality. Plus I have never felt cleaner in my life after a lovely (and brave) woman scrubbed layers off me. Marrakech, you delight with your charms and your ancient, beautiful, crazy and chaotic ways....

I travelled there with my housemate, Eavan, who not only has an amazing flair for design and an appreciation of elegance, also took on the mighty task of chief navigator and map reader. For those who have been, you will understand when I say that getting lost is an inevitability. But that is the fun of it. We walked over 30km one day, circling and spiraling through a maze of souks (markets), dodging the traffic and navigating the haggling hoards. Our haggle skills got honed too, as we tuned into the psychology of it, and the game of it too. Our adventures through the markets were intercepted with the occasional sweet mint tea or a delicious juice to give some pause. The light did the rest.

In the evening, our Riad (courtyard home) was a genuine oasis and simply to ponder its proportions and elegant design was a treat. That we got to stay there, even more so.

We packed so much in I felt I had been away for much longer than 3 nights, and the whole experience was like inspiration fuel- stepping into another culture to learn, see, experience and soak in the magic and beauty of this world we live in. Thank you Eavan. Thank you hosts. Thank you Marrakech. We will be back, and hopefully soon....

This Creative Island...

So folks, I don't have a Creative Islanders interview for you this week but I do have a series of photos and a writing extract from my recent travels around this very creative island, when I was fueling myself with inspiration and lining up some more interviews for future editions...

Travelling around the South West and West coast I was reminded over, and over, of how amazingly beautiful this country is, how fortunate I am to call this home and how much more there is to discover. This land is charged with potential and possibility. This land is alive with story and myth.

Here a little extract from my journal while on my travels, offering a sense of what is on offer.

I needed time, away from words and screens. Instead this happened...

I got birds, in abundance- blackbirds, swallows, herons, egrets, greytits, cormorants, crows, wrens, gulls, moorhens, swifts and a whole number of little finches whose names I do not know. They potter and swoop, telling tales of distant lands and the ever wonderous majesty of flight.

Instead I got the sea. Inhaling and exhaling, offering a slower pace; a steady inevitabilty of change. There was the necessary meeting of cold salty water on my skin and unapologetic mud between my toes, marking trails of adventure.

Instead I got hedgerows, their edges all fired up with mombrisia and behind, the budding blackberries- some still in bloom, some just ripening, some ready to pick. Then the ferns- at various stages of unfurl. And the moss and the fushia, and the little yellow flowers in bloom, unnamed in me also, and those purple too. Their beauty is name enough.

Then the sunsets, cliched in magnificance, defiant of words, interjected only with the sounds of flapping sails, birdsong and the music from another peninsula.

Instead I got time with little Finn. Her first sea swim. Her claiming of empty crab claws, and dried seaweed fronds and abandoned sea clams. And the hours and hours of shore wandering and exploration of headlands. And the time we saw dolphins. And the boats we took. And the days we lost track of time.

I needed time away to come towards. Towards the natural life, the one which does not need to be switched on or plugged in but consequently plugs you in and switches you on.

The sun is out now, and we are off again with no agenda but to wander, with no aspiration but to be. Me and my four legged friend.

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The Danger of Until...

So often we put our plans on hold. Our dreams on hold. Our creative impulses on hold. Our lives on hold. 'Until I practice more', 'Until I loose a few more pounds', 'Until it is perfect', 'Until I am ready', 'Until they say I am ready'.

Until is a dangerous word.

Most of the time I don't feel ready. I usually wish I had more time to practice. Most of the time it doesn't feel quite good enough. I always want to loose those few pounds. I don't actually know who 'they' are. But I am tired of waiting until.

I have found that 'until' actually stifles creative energy and clogs us up until something in us needs to burst, and sometimes it bursts in destructive ways. To even hold the energy of 'until' takes energy. It takes energy not to create and dream. It takes energy wishing those pounds away. And it takes so much time waiting for the right time.

I learned a very big lesson about 'until' last week. For several years I have been thinking of teaching online. I looked a LOTS of different courses. I did some. I thought about structure and format. I over thought about structure and format. I looked at more courses. I got overwhelmed with it all. 'Until I have more subscribers, until my new site is ready, until I feel I am ready' Until, until, until. A few years passed (yes, years).

This year however I knew it was time to take a leap. When designing my new website, a space was incorporated for online learning. I had courses in mind and a rough sense of how to get them out into the world. But I did not feel quite ready. Additionally, with all the comings and goings this year, by the end of July I had a deep sense of needing to step away from a screen in order to recalibrate. A holiday was being called out. The break was needed and wonderful but when I got back home it left me with little time to launch and promote the course. It was just a week to go before the date I had originally announced. Was I mad? All the advice had said I needed six weeks...

'Ah maybe I will wait until December'

'Maybe I will wait until more people have signed up to my newsletter'

'Perhaps I will just hold off until I feel there is more time to prepare'

Until was back, dangling what could be easily seen as procrastination or laziness right in front of my face. I was so close to not continuing. The night before I was launching it, I was so so so nearly pulling it. Until was teasing me with ugly excuses.

Luckily something within begged me to knock on the door of until, asking was it was trying to tell me. I knew I had been thinking about this for a long time, and I knew that teaching is a big part of my business plan moving forwards. When I questioned 'until' two things popped. Firstly, I realised I was afraid that the technology for the online teaching wouldn't work for me, but mostly I was afraid that nobody would sign up. Fear. That was it. Big, juicy, daunting fear. 'Until' had simply masked itself.

When I saw 'until' for what it was, I knew I had to leap and pull off its mask. It was indeed time to put the course out there and show up to the work. If no one signed up to the course, at least I had tried.

The leap is leverage.

And guess what, people did sign up. Not in droves but enough that it felt like a healthy contingent and a brilliant start. There were people living in Ireland, USA, The Netherlands, UK, and even as far away as Tazmania. How amazing is that! Plus I loved the experience. I loved creating the videos and audio recordings. I loved reading responses and connecting with participants and seeing them connect with each other. Here was a space, carved on the internet, for people to connect to themselves, their visions, build new skills and engage with others. What a privilege for me to get to do this work.

'Until' would have extinguished all of that.

The leap has fueled me with added determination and a relief that I knocked on that door. Now I just need to keep knocking, keep listening and keep showing up to the work. For the work wants life, and life needs life to live through.

So what are you waiting for? Where is until in your life? And what is it really saying?

Knock on its door... I suspect you will get an interesting, leveraging, response.

Creative Islanders: Aoife Mc Elwain

Photo: Julia Dunin

The Creative Islanders is a new interview series showcasing some of Ireland’s brightest creative talent and enterprise. It is about people who are stepping into their dreams, purpose and possibilities and embracing their one wild life. The interviews give a rare ‘behind the scenes’ glimpse into creative practice, motivations and mindsets- shining a light on what makes people tick, and how, collectively, Ireland is alive with creative possibility.

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A bundle of life and talent, Aoife McElwain, food stylist, recipe writer, and a creative force behind Forkful is next up in the Creative Islanders series. Her food writing brings an elegance and charm to even the simplest of dishes, offering unusual twists on classic dishes. Teamed up with photographer and videographer Mark Duggan, Aoife has a knack of peeling back a recipe to its basic structure and revealing, step by step, the sheer delight of cooking it. That it will be tasty is unquestionable.

Beyond food writing, one of the things I admire about Aoife is her honesty about the creative process and what it really means to be a creative practitioner, speaking candidly about the highs, the lows and the dogged determination it can take to keep our internal critics at bay. We spoke together last weekend at the Creative Islanders event at Another Love Story but for those not able to attend, I hand you now over to the lovely Aoife McElwain...

All imagery below: Recipes and food styling: Aoife McElwain / Photography: Mark Duggan

What keeps you in Ireland?

My community keeps me in Ireland. That includes my close community of family and friends, as well as the wider community of taxi drivers who talk about metaphysics on a Monday, old ladies who love a chat at bus stops, event enthusiasts who strive to create happenings that increase the happiness of people around them… I think the size of Ireland and our openness for craic and banter lend itself well to making connections which can help make good things happen.

What makes you tick? What motivates you?

Cold, hard cash. Hah! Just kidding. I’m motivated by creating things for people to enjoy. Making yummy food for people is one of the ways I say “I love you and think you are wonderful.” Though I have no problems saying those types of things without cake, too. I go to extra effort when setting a table for dinner so that it feels like a special occasion that my guests will remember. I spend days planning and organising treasure hunts so people have fun discovering a new place. I’m also motivated by newness and connections. I like learning new things and meeting new people.

What do you do just for the love of it?

It’s interesting because I love a lot of what I do. I’ve been really lucky in the last few years to have put myself in a position where I’m doing things I love all the time. This doesn’t mean that I don’t get stressed or I don’t procrastinate… but even when I’m wrecked after writing, cooking and styling ten recipes in one day for a photoshoot, I feel very grateful for the opportunity to get to work at doing stuff that makes me proud of what I’ve achieved, and the funny little diverse career I’m starting to carve out for myself.

What does the creative process teach you?

To me, the creative process goes like this: “Aaarrrrgghhhhhh oh CRAP I can’t do this, there’s no way I’m ever going to be able to do this arrrrgghhhhhh…. Oh! Wait. I think I have it. Oh, yeah, that’s actually pretty good.” The more I go through this process the more I trust myself at the outset, and the better able I am to deal with fear of failure and the anxiety that surrounds putting yourself out there creatively.

Why do you do what you do?

My aim is to lead a life where I keep learning. I really do believe that every person you meet has something to teach you, even if it’s something mundane like the name of their local football hero or something profound like their thoughts on the meaning of life. I like to push myself to try new things, whether it’s horse-riding or a recipe for shortcrust pastry, even though change and newness can a bit scary sometimes. It can be hard to keep up the momentum of discovery however, and, as I get older, I’m better at allowing myself breaks from activity to make room for rest and renewal. Chilling out is so important.

What were some of the key moments along your own journey that helped you to get where you are today?

When I met Niall (my husband) ten years ago, I didn’t really know what a blog was. He helped me get set up with my first food blog (I Can Has Cook? www.icanhascook.com) which led to my columns in Totally Dublin, The Irish Independent and The Irish Times. At that time, I had been trying for a few years to break into radio (I had a show for five years on Dublin City FM interviewing Irish bands) and I was feeling pretty rubbish at how little success I was having. So when I started the blog for the fun of it, it was an amazing thing to have it turn into a career of sorts. When I met Mark Duggan in 2012 and we started working on forkful (www.forkful.tv) together, it also brought opportunities to work more full-time in food, which I’m really grateful for. It’s allowed me to develop my skills as a food stylist, which is a fun and challenging job wherein I have to use my creative wits to make challenging vegetables like celeraic look gorgeous.

How do you get unstuck? Any secret tools?

I very often suffer from procrastination paralysis when it comes to writing features. I’m grand with recipe writing but when I have to articulate my own opinion about something, I start to hear the voices of the world’s best writers in my head saying “Oh… so you call that writing? Wow. Scarleh for yer ma.” Sometimes the voices get so loud I have to take to bed with bowls of cocoa pops for company. This is not a nice place. If this happens in the late afternoon or early evening, I’ve learned to indulge it. I let myself take the time off and then I wake up very, very early the next day. I’m talking 5am early, when the foxes still own the streets and twitter hasn’t woken up yet. My inner critic only seems to wake up at around noon (she’s lazy as well as mean) so if I can get a good few hours in before that, then I’ve already had a productive day. Productivity really spurns me on too, so once I get one job done, the rest can often follow.

Where do you find inspiration? Any hidden gems?

For recipes and food styling ideas, I look to my peers like Imen McDonnell, Cliodhna Prendergast and Jette Virdi. I also follow a load of great people on Instagram for inspiration from folks like Beth Kirby (@local_milk) and publications like Root + Bone (@rootandbone), Lucky Peach (@luckypeach) and Fool Magazine (@foolmagazine) who are doing something a little different in their approach to food journalism. For personal inspiration, I often find myself looking to comedy for answers. I adore Amy Schumer, Louis CK, Amy Poehler and Lena Dunham. I read their books and tweets, and watch their TV shows. They make me laugh and help me understand the world.

How do you get through tough times? What sustains you?

I do try to go easy on myself. Though I have found it really hard to learn this, it’s ok that life isn’t all ice-cream sundaes and sunshine. I’m getting better at listening to myself. If I’m feeling overwhelmed, I take a break (if deadlines allow it – and usually, they do). Hanging out with my dog Daffodil can be a great release. Apart from the times she bullies other dogs in the park – she can be quite the terrier. But she thinks I’m absolutely brilliant, in every way, and is completely blind to my flaws. When I’m feeling low, hers is a good energy to have around. She mirrors my mood and will snuggle up to me quietly when I’m taking time out of the world, just so I know she’s there, if I need her. Apart from my canine companion, my husband Niall always has my back, as I do his. We’re a good team. He makes amazing sandwiches which is a crucial skill to call on in a crisis.

What key lessons have your learned about doing business or being a creative practitioner along the way? What have you learned from your 'failures'?

That you don’t have to get things right straight away. That you can will your life to be slow and conscious, rather than too fast and stressy; you just have to work quite hard on your own self to achieve that. Taking time to slowly evaluate problems rather than emotionally reacting to things is a good pattern to try to live to. I’m only beginning to wake up to this and to see it as a possibility of a way to work and live. Some slow, gradual early success living and working to a more mindful beat makes me hopeful for the future.

Do you have a morning routine? Or other creative habits or rituals?

My favourite morning habit is to take my dog Daffodil to the park first thing in the morning. Then I like to come home and have a proper breakfast (the best is boiled eggs sprinkled with ground cumin and sea salt, with sourdough for dunking) and a coffee, brewed by my husband Niall. But I’m not going to pretend that routine happens every morning. Mostly I wake up later than I’d like and spend the rest of the morning catching up. I try not to get too angry at myself when this happens because that adds insult to injury. When I do get my ideal morning though, it sets me up for a happy and productive day.

What books have inspired you? Or what websites do you turn to?

The Flavour Thesaurus by Niki Segnit is the most thumbed and food splattered book in my kitchen. It’s an absolute must for cooks who are ready to start finding their own creativity in the kitchen. I really enjoy reading memoirs by chefs, including the classic Kitchen Confidential by Anthony Bourdain (a lovable rogue) and Blood, Bones and Butter by Gabrielle Hamilton. I’ve also been inspired by the work of Michael Pollan, an American food journalist and writer whose work has taught me a lot about the basics and history of food.

What advice do you wish you had received as you were stepping onto your own creative path?

You don’t have to be good at everything and you certainly don’t have to be perfect at doing something straight away. And you don’t have to tell everyone you don’t know what you’re doing. Most of the time, this actually isn’t as endearing as you think.

And what advice would you give to your future self?

If you’re feeling overwhelmed, take a deep breath and think about the other times you thought you were going to make a total mess of things and then actually did a pretty good job. You’re not a total dumdum, McElwain. And stop comparing your productivity levels to those of Michelle Obama! She has a team of, like, ten people. Of course she’s super productive!

What is coming up next for you?

Myself and Mark Duggan are releasing some new forkful videos this autumn, which I’m really excited about. We have been focusing on refining our still photography skills, as well as working with brands on video and photography content for their websites. I’m also working as a copywriter helping small brands develop their messages and identity. I’ll continue to work on my recipe columns and restaurant reviews for The Irish Times, The Irish Independent and Totally Dublin, and I’d like to flex my non-food writing muscles too. My current passion project is to develop a treasure hunt design agency. I recently organised an island-wide treasure hunt on Inishturk island which 35 visitors and islanders took part in. I designed it so they would not only bond with their team members but also discover the island, in a historical and physical way. I think there’s great potential to design place-specific treasure hunts around the country to enable people to embark on adventures of discovery. And I’m ready to start doing it. Video credits: Recipes and food styling: Aoife McElwain / Photography and Direction: Mark Duggan / Editing: Killian Broderick / Music Supervision: Niall Byrne

The Art of Remembering

Sometimes things take you by surprise and tell you something about yourself which had long laid hidden. That something can be a good thing; a thing that was with you all along but you had unintentionally ignored, or even chosen to ignore. Or even it was just time passing which took you away from it, further and further until it became a dot on a distant horizon, hazy and doubtful.

If you had said to me 11 months ago that I would be having an exhibition of illustrations I would have laughed. Me? Sure I haven't drawn in years.

I used to, back then, somewhere along that hazy horizon zone of time. But I had forgotten. I had forgotten the feeling of inky hands and the organic, unpredicable relationship between paint and water. I had forgotten the gentle undulating feeling of textured watercolour paper or the way you need to carefully navigate a nib from an inkwell. I didn't remember that I had once so enjoyed the feeling of the exact moment when the pen touches a surface with the intention to draw. Or how time can slip away; hours feeling like glimpses. Or the concentration it takes. Or the sense of having to let the image speak to you. Or what it takes to know when to stop. I had forgotten.

Twenty years later a knowing has returned. It is a surprise to me this, a big one. Yet it is as if a familiar friend has come back with new stories to tell and images to conjure of distant lands. Or even deeper, now that I am painting, I feel fuller again, more me. It is like a chunk of myself was missing and now that it is here, things are starting to make sense again and I am understanding my programming in a new light. I am finding a certain capacity for calmness, and an exhilaration which I knew existed but I had suspected someone had locked away and permanently misplaced the key.

It wasn't so hard to unlock after all. It just meant following an urge, showing up to a blank page and allowing my hand to remember. It has somehow been there all along. I had just been intent on forgetting.

Things can happen quickly. Time has done that funny dance, distorting what you think might be possible. So 11 months on, my first solo exhibition has been mounted. It is small but attended to with love and gratitude. Plus it serves as a whopping reminder that you never ever know what is coming. Sometimes we just need to show up to the blank page and let the remembering remember.

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If you would like to see or purchase the drawings and are in the area on West Waterford head on down to Blackwater Garden Centre Cafe, outside Dungarvan- hosted by the delightful and welcoming Anne McKenna. (Huge thanks to Anne for enabling this and welcoming me and my artwork with such warmth and openness. She serve lovely tea and cakes too :)