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Why is real concern for the child - all children - not at the heart of Christmas? Artist Brenda Fitzmaurice in Whirlpool and poet Mary Kennelly in Ophelia capture the theme. The child alone looking for company. Is this our concern 'For the young girl / without a mother / who played too much alone'?
Is Bull's Eye an image of a massive explosion that changed everything? Is that the legacy of this season?  Or is it more accurately expressed in the poet's words (in Frisson) marking a passing passion that is 'strong enough to crawl / Inside my skin and fast become a fire,/ I
burn and blaze and ebb and flow'?
Then there are the good memories, The Fields of Gold, expressed in Songbird, ‘... Old friendships needing no false manner’, extending to a time beyond time, ‘Voice calling from beyond the grave’.
What parents don't wish to bring their child to John's Poppy Meadow? The child in Morning
Adventures 'His uniform a tee-shirt, nappy and wellington boots,' already straining at the leash. 'Around him the dogs settle down, / Magi with cocked puzzled glances come to adore, /They wag their tails through ornamental poppies.'
Is Fishy, Fishy tossed in turbulent waters a fitting image for our times? Is there an inability to put the Argument into perspective, and not again painfully knock heads against the wall, 'Round and round and round we go / Like fish in a barrel. / ... / You will not change, I will not leave, / You will be hurt, I will be sad, / but only for a day or two. / Then we will forget, / Or pretend to forget, ...’
Ben at Beale, standing on the beach, by the huge expanse of the River Shannon. Was his life's
experience as turbulent as we hear in Sionnan ... 'Sometimes I am mother, sometimes wife / And sometimes murderous, terrifying hag / ... / Mysterious, frightening, beautiful, / Constantly renewed and pouring / Into the mouth of my beloved.'
In deep, dark colours of an autumn landscape is the Sunlit Tree the challenge for all of us that if somebody close is vulnerable we 'Make the terrors of your day alright.' How can we best help '... wipe away the awful truth / That someone dared to lay a hand on you.'
Poet and artist agree on Carraigafoyle Castle, witness to 'Glory, power and wealth. Defeat, destruction, death / ... / Witness still to man's great thoughts and deeds / And in the end of man's insignificance.'
And for the 13th successive year the soaring voices of the Opus '96 Chamber Choir will celebrate the gallery's 24th birthday and introduce us to the Christmas season.

Numbers 1 - 29 - Limited edition (75) Print with Poem (22"x17") Framed €125; Mounted €75