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City Assembly House

Project type

Exhibition

Date

13-17 May 2025

Location

Dublin.

City Assembly House

Exhibition Venue

“Loving the Alien”
Song by David Bowie ‧ 1984
But if you pray, all your sins are hooked upon the sky
Pray, and the heathen lie will disappear
Prayers, they hide the saddest view
Believing the strangest things, loving the alien
And your prayers, they break the sky in two
Believing the strangest things, loving the alien

“Loving the Alien”
Song by David Bowie ‧ 1984
But if you pray, all your sins are hooked upon the sky
Pray, and the heathen lie will disappear
Prayers, they hide the saddest view
Believing the strangest things, loving the alien
And your prayers, they break the sky in two
Believing the strangest things, loving the alien

A visual representation of the term “Ghosting” both in its present context and historically. Through textiles, paint and found things. The phone reminds us of the portal which creates a space for strangers and dangers to enter uninvited into our lives. The cloth examines the relationship of the caller and their persistence in the face of rejection.

A visual representation of the term “Ghosting” both in its present context and historically. Through textiles, paint and found things. The phone reminds us of the portal which creates a space for strangers and dangers to enter uninvited into our lives. The cloth examines the relationship of the caller and their persistence in the face of rejection.

She’s a textile junkie.
Addicted,
inflicted with
dreams of cloth.
Hanging by a thread,
the ruination
of any
Work station.
Embellishment
that cost
the rent,
unwisely spent.
Behind closed doors
fabric spews from box,
from bag,
from basket.
As though
it blew a gasket
and exploded,
unfolded in a heap
over there,
to be sorted
one day.
But not today.
Today is for searching
and longing.
Regretful
cutting,
random sewing,
misuse,
abuse
of silk
or small amounts,
that still count
as gold.
Beautiful to hold.
For someday,
but not today.
Today is for dreaming.
Fabric screaming
from every corner
to the textile junkie.
“Cut me,
style me,
make me groovy.
Something to move me.”
But not today.
Today is for thinking
of fabric inklings.
Not finding
what was looked for.
Close the door.
Buy some more.

She’s a textile junkie.
Addicted,
inflicted with
dreams of cloth.
Hanging by a thread,
the ruination
of any
Work station.
Embellishment
that cost
the rent,
unwisely spent.
Behind closed doors
fabric spews from box,
from bag,
from basket.
As though
it blew a gasket
and exploded,
unfolded in a heap
over there,
to be sorted
one day.
But not today.
Today is for searching
and longing.
Regretful
cutting,
random sewing,
misuse,
abuse
of silk
or small amounts,
that still count
as gold.
Beautiful to hold.
For someday,
but not today.
Today is for dreaming.
Fabric screaming
from every corner
to the textile junkie.
“Cut me,
style me,
make me groovy.
Something to move me.”
But not today.
Today is for thinking
of fabric inklings.
Not finding
what was looked for.
Close the door.
Buy some more.

October Crows
I love that sound
at close of day,
when bloody skies
are stirred with grey.
When autumn trees
are striped of magic
sending crows
into a panic.

Roosting, tumbling
on the breeze.
Falling down
into the trees.
Bare branches
filled with small black dots,
falling down into their slots.

October, October,
halloween is on its way.
Longer is the night,
Shorter is the day.

The sky is full of sleepy crows,
no robin, no swallow, no lark,
as I watch on from down below
and listen to October crows
sing lullabies Marlay Park.

October Crows
I love that sound
at close of day,
when bloody skies
are stirred with grey.
When autumn trees
are striped of magic
sending crows
into a panic.

Roosting, tumbling
on the breeze.
Falling down
into the trees.
Bare branches
filled with small black dots,
falling down into their slots.

October, October,
halloween is on its way.
Longer is the night,
Shorter is the day.

The sky is full of sleepy crows,
no robin, no swallow, no lark,
as I watch on from down below
and listen to October crows
sing lullabies Marlay Park.

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