Blog entry for 24th June
This evening my first piece of work was created; it is the first in a planned series of four entitled Memorial to the Islanders. Thinking about life (and death) on Inishlacken, the need to take the dead to the mainland by boat for their last blessings and burial and all this at the mercy of the weather, typifies the routine imposed onto life here by the elements. The Irish are known for their religious beliefs, looking from the outside for those of us from other cultures, sometimes it can seem more like religious fervor. So I am left wondering what impact a death must have had on this small close-knit community. Although any life that is lost is a tragedy to the Inishlacken Islanders it must have been a keenly felt loss. Not just because the religious rituals could not take place here but also because the size, efficiency and viability of the community would be less strong with the loss just one person.
Memorial to the Islanders I began as a private work but ended as one involving the whole Inishlacken community. My intention to make 200 paper boats (one for each islander) became a shared task and by 3.30 in the afternoon, without any coercion on my part, pretty much everyone was around the table in Finklater’s Cottage folding, pulling and teasing paper boats from torn sketchbook sheets. Mo, Siobhan, Emma, Jenny, Sean, Kate, Phil set up an industrious boat-making factory with an average work rate of three boats per minute. In a short time we had made 160, and to my sadness also ran out of paper. To mitigate this two sheets of larger watercolour paper was used to make a flagship and rear guard vessel, big enough to have carried the remaining 40 of the population.
Today is also St John’s Day, celebrated across Ireland and linked to the longest day but also a Catholic observance. Fires are lit along the coastline and this evening several could be seen from here, glowing along the mainland and the coast of Inishnee island. Today’s windy weather with some showers gave way, as if ordered, to a warm, dry evening so by 11.30pm being outside in the fading light was a pleasant experience
As the light was lost and the moon assumed control, the flaming boats were launched by their makers into a large rock pool whose shape bore a loose resemblance to Inishlacken. Against the darkening sky the flames illuminated the pool and surrounding area as Kate played the Bodrhan in a solemn rhythmic beat. People stopped talking and stood still, watching.
