Short Walks with a Camera (No. 1)

Lower Road, Kinsale, Co. Cork, Ireland
From Scilly to Summercove
From the Spaniard bar walk down the hill to the lower road with the sea on your right walk all the way to the main road through the tunneling trees, then down the hill to the Bulman bar for a pint!
You've earned it! Best on a calm day when boats will be reflected in still waters.

Hidden Stairs

Hidden Stairs, Kylemore Abbey, Gothic Church, Galway 92

Many years ago I was asked by the nuns of
Kylemore Abbey if i would take photographs
for a calendar to help in the restoration fund
for the beautiful but at that time neglected
gothic church which lay in the grounds of
the abbey.
When I arrived they politly but firmly warned
me that the bell tower was to dangerous to
enter and the door would be locked.Ignoring
what happened to the cat I found a loose
panel in the bottom of the door that once
removed would just about let me enter.My
reward, just enough natural light to
photograph these beautiful curving stairs
that dissapeared into the lost light of the tower.
The image often brings to mind one of my
favourite paintings 'meeting on the turrett stairs'
which hangs in the national gallery of Ireland.
The photograph never made the calander i was
too afraid to show it to the nuns.....

My Favourite Image, Ever!

Visitors to the Gallery often ask me which is my favourite photograph. My usual answer is, sometimes this sometimes that, vague to the point of being rude I know, but not anymore. I can categorically say this is my favourite image ever, for now! One of the world’s most beautiful beaches, Coulmeenole belongs to the dingle peninsular off the west coast of Ireland. Home to the movie Ryan's Daughter, I wasn’t the first one there with a camera, the light on the crashing wave and the two hovering gulls add life to the darkened mood of the photograph while the dome like rock suggests the gathering doom of a storm.

a perfect day

on a perfect day,
in a perfect world.

clouds would gather white and grey
waves would roll high and
mighty, then crash the shore with raging beauty

old men on bikes would
peddle past, then leave
their wheels on gable ends
a mountain side lake would hold one lonely lily

gulls would glide, past
mountain sides, with wings spread wide in
perfect shape

doe eyed donkeys would
walk in ruins

the sun would throw daggers from rain darkened clouds

grass riddled roads would
lead to the sea, where
clinker built boats would
guard hidden harbours

a pair of white swans would flirt in dark waters

perfect wild roses would wait by the road side, and
sad easter lillies would gather to mourn

and on this perfect day
in this perfect world, I would be alone

Perfect Composition

Every image we see has its perfect composition and the closer we get to that the better the photograph, it’s the difference between a bad photograph and a good one, a good photograph and a great one.

It’s the fundamental being of both landscape and street photography, the one thing you must learn, the one thing your camera can't do for you. My advice to any aspiring photographer is concentrate on composition and let your camera do the rest. Most cameras have an automatic program mode, find it, use it, trust it. Don’t look at your camera, look through it, because while your looking at it, moving dials and changing buttons, the clouds have moved, the light on the sea has disappeared, the couple kissing are now talking, the photograph is less than it could have been, the image has lost its perfect composition.

No Footprints

Like a magnet Coomonole drags me back, drags me down it's deep incline, early, always early, before footprints march ugly across my waiting canvas.

Approaching the Dingle Peninsula, I pass the beauty of Inch Strand, a crime not to stop, I promise I will return, I promise. But, I have to get to Coomonole and I have to get there early.

I drive through Dingle along the sea front, only fishermen pumping boats, town on my right. A quick nod up at Dick Mac's, I'll be back, I'll be back. But, I have to get to Coomonole and I have to get there early.

Passing Ventry sea on my left, I am imagining waves. I can see the Blaskets now demanding my attention. Rising, posing, proud and vain because every camera stops for them but not me, not now, not this time. I have to get to Coomonole and I have to get there early.

.....and then I am there, winding down to the beach, waves crashing on rocks, seabirds dancing on the tide, early, always early and yes, no footprints.

I had to get to Coomenole and I had to get there early.