Stephen Dedalus

James Joyce's literary protagonist lifted from the inebriated subconscious.

or so I half-reckon.

The Rake In Old Age

Well, after a four month hiatus, finally getting back into the swing of things. 'The Rake In Old Age' is just that- an old follower of earthly pleasures left with only his tin whistle and self-pitying memories. Beckett humor anyone?

Backache Pills

Loosely inspired by a line of dialogue from James Joyce's Ulysses, 'Backache Pills' depicts an ould fella who brought his last pint for the night home with him for to swallow down a few prescription painkillers, due to the water-pipes bursting last Tuesday from the cold. Why he didn't bring the painkillers to the pub, and why he's sitting there naked is a complete mystery, though I'm sure it makes perfect sense to the drunken ould bachelor. Here's a closeup of the pint-

'duddinit look like a face?'

The Locals

A recently completed painting which took the better part of four months due to a bout of the dormancy (laziness) and other such distractions (a 'well needed' five-week session of relentless proportions back home).

Session #1

"liquor flying and jumping and stumbling and ordering pint after pint, round after round of God's reserve, Guinness, winding each other up with drunken banter and holy laughter and spilling everything everywhere (it's alright, it's a stone floor) and braking glass and sogging joints and scabbing smokes and celebrating the ould men in their caps and jumpers lounging on corner bar-stools with one hand on the pints and the others on Guitars Banjos Mandolins Fiddles Bouzoukis Flutes and Whistles..."

"For some reason we call it 'That High Lonesome Sound'"

This large piece was the first successfully finished commission, the scene being two Irish fellas (in the caps) over on holiday in Appalachia having mighty craic with the locals on a front porch at sundown. Used a bit of red in through the painting as requested by the client, and I reckon it makes the piece pop out at ya.

Three Fiddlin' Fiddlers

Three fiddlers all painted around the same time, entitled (in order) Finnegan's Wake, Tuning Up, and 'Sure I'll Have a Sup Of Me Pint And We'll Have A Go At the Humours Of Scariff'.

"It's him who's paying for the pints- Iddinit good we've you around during a recession, ha?"

Completed about six months ago under nothing resembling pressure, this was the first of the paintings sold; a delightful 'popping of the cherry' as it were by ways of actually making some moolah out of the whole 'artist' occupation. Spent the money, not surprisingly, on Buckfast and Guinness.

It aint a Painting, but it's still James Joyce

Done with some ink and a bit of water, it's not necessarily part of the series, but sure fuck it, it's James Joyce. Incidentally, he's thinking "Look at ya there reading Finnegan's Wake ya poor bastard".

Mary, Mother Of God

A take on them old pictures all the ould country Catholics used to (and still) have hangin' up beneath them red glowing yokes inside in the sitting rooms. Instead of the sacred heart, of course, is a Lovely Pint.

Paintings and such

Ah, the first post. Here's a humble piece of craic for ya, the wee poster-yoke I did for the Galway based band The Rye by way of request from their illustrious Banjo player Cian Mulligan.