Monday, August 3, 2015

In support of the RNLI



'Galway Hookers'  Oil on Canvas

Last year I joined a local art group in Kinvara, Co Galway.  Several members of the group were friends from art college. I exhibited with the group in a number of great exhibitions last year.  The group's summer exhibition for this year opened yesterday, August 2nd and will run for two weeks.  The exhibition is a charity event and part of the proceeds each year go to the RNLI, an organisation to which we owe so much for the tremendous work they do in saving lives all around the coast of Ireland.
I've donated my painting 'Galway Hookers' for the event.  

Wednesday, July 29, 2015

Stormy Seas

Oil on Canvas Board  12" x 16"

Tuesday, July 21, 2015

Coole Park

'Pathway to the Lake' at Coole Park, Gort Co Galway   Oil on Canvas

These eighteen 80 year old trees at Coole Park, Gort, have been felled because they posed a “serious risk” to public safety.
The Monterey cypress trees were felled at the former home of Lady Augusta Gregory on advice from expert arborists who found that the trees could fail at any time without warning, and posed a serious risk to public safety.
Some of the trees were infected by a type of bracket fungus called Ganoderma applanatum, but this was not the only reason for their removal, according to the Department of Arts, Heritage and the Gaeltacht.
“The trees were in very poor condition. The crowns of the trees were very damaged and in these cases, failure of the roots or falling branches is not uncommon in this species,” said a spokesperson.
Some restrictions remain in place around the area where the trees were felled, and are likely to last about another week until the stumps of the trees are ground and the felled timber removed.
http://www.galwayindependent.com/20140911/news/historic-trees-felled-due-to-public-safety-risk-S43837.html

Sunday, August 31, 2014

Dunguaire Castle, Kinvara, Co Galway

Oil on Canvas
Dunguaire Castle is a 16th century tower house located in Kinvara on the shores of Galway Bay.  The castle was built in 1520 by the O’Hynes clan and passed into the hands of the Martyn’s of Galway in the early 17th century.  Richard Martyn, Mayor of Galway lived here until 1642 and the Martyn’s of Tulira Castle, owned the castle until this century.
In 1924 Dunguaire was bought and repaired by Oliver St. John Gogarty, the famous surgeon and literary figure. This was the time of the great Celtic revival in Irish literature exemplified by the works of writers such as Synge, Yeats Shaw and O'Casey. It became the venue for meetings of the literary revivalists such as W.B. Yeats, his patron Lady Gregory, George Bernard Shaw, Edward Martin and J.M. Synge. Yeats in particular believed strongly in the Celtic Bardic tradition and set about reviving the ancient oral customs incorporating them into his plays and poetry.  

In 1954 the castle was acquired by Christobel Lady Amptill who completed the restoration started by Oliver St. John Gogarty.

Wednesday, March 26, 2014

Friday, November 22, 2013

The Lonesome Boatman

Tranquility  Oil on Canvas  Patricia Kavanagh

Kylemore Lake  Oil on Canvas  Patricia Kavanagh

Listen to this beautiful air written by Finbar Furey in 1968.  

Wednesday, November 20, 2013

Home

Oil on Canvas  Patricia Kavanagh

Home 
It takes a heap o’ livin’ in a house t’ make it home,
A heap o’ sun an’ shadder, an’ ye sometimes have t’ roam
Afore ye really ’preciate the things ye lef’ behind,
An’ hunger fer ’em somehow, with ’em allus on yer mind.
It don’t make any differunce how rich ye get t’ be,
How much yer chairs an’ tables cost, how great yer luxury;
It ain’t home t’ ye, though it be the palace of a king,
Until somehow yer soul is sort o’ wrapped round everything.

Home ain’t a place that gold can buy or get up in a minute;
Afore it’s home there’s got t’ be a heap o’ livin’ in it;
Within the walls there’s got t’ be some babies born, and then
Right there ye’ve got t’ bring ‘em up t’ women good, an’ men;
And gradjerly, as time goes on, ye find ye wouldn’t part
With anything they ever used—they’ve grown into yer heart:
The old high chairs, the playthings, too, the little shoes they wore
Ye hoard; an’ if ye could ye’d keep the thumbmarks on the door.

Ye’ve got t’ weep t’ make it home, ye’ve got t’ sit an’ sigh
An’ watch beside a loved one’s bed, an’ know that Death is nigh;
An’ in the stillness o’ the night t’ see Death’s angel come,
An’ close the eyes o’ her that smiled, an’ leave her sweet voice dumb.
Fer these are scenes that grip the heart, an’ when yer tears are dried,
Ye find the home is dearer than it was, an’ sanctified;
An’ tuggin’ at ye always are the pleasant memories
O’ her that was an’ is no more—ye can’t escape from these.

Ye’ve got t’ sing an’ dance fer years, ye’ve got t’ romp an’ play,
An’ learn t’ love the things ye have by usin’ ’em each day;
Even the roses ’round the porch must blossom year by year
Afore they ’come a part o’ ye, suggestin’ someone dear
Who used t’ love ’em long ago, an’ trained ’em jes’ t’ run
The way they do, so’s they would get the early mornin’ sun;
Ye’ve got t’ love each brick an’ stone from cellar up t’ dome:
It takes a heap o’ livin’ in a house t’ make it home.
 by Edgar Albert Guest