Climbing the Floppy Mountain

I am settling into a fairly regular routine now. Most days I get to school around 10 and stay until about 6. I'm not getting a ton of work done right now. I do some research for my thesis and have been spending quite a bit of time writing about the art I have been doing and why I am doing it. I think that I needed to sort of step back and re-evaluate what was going on in my art. But in the last few days the need to do that feels finished and I am back working away at my stuff.

I had a pretty random week that I am posting pictures of: an early morning walk to school, hanging out in the boat in the back field, the Peace Arch borderline at Blaine slowly being created in the studio, a day trip to Ennis, and an Irish Studies hike through the National Park.

Cappawalla emerging behind the castle:

Looking back down the road to school:

Jess and Steph in the boat:

The border between Steph and my studios (she's from Victoria BC):

Saturday shopping trip to Ennis. We shopped, ran errands, had great pizza, and eventually made our way to a pub.

Cruises pub. They are famous for the music nights which I have never attended. But I do really like it. I especially like that you can sit outside under a cover and watch a match on the tv on the opposite wall. I don't quite get what's up with the stove, I think this wall was once part of a house which got torn down and is now an alley.

I find this to be a strange sort of thing to advertise:

Robert Ellis at the New Hotel has been bringing in great music. So far I've seen a band that played a hybrid of traditional Indian and traditional Irish music. It sounds sort of like a strange idea but was great. And last week he had an amazing Basque band:

The strange floppy mountain in the national park. It was formed by mountains pushing up in France. It looks like a collapsed souffle. We were on some sort of crazy schedule so Gordon made us climb it in two hours. The only break we got was ten minutes at the top. But it was fun and beautiful. I LOVE this class.

And luckily it was gorgeous out. So far we've had great luck with the weather on our trips, but I think that may be changing as it's been pretty wet this week.



There are no real paths. Gordon just points to where we need to get to and then starts leading us through the hazel scrub. It really makes you feel like a kid when you would just go and explore.

At the first of the steps (slumps). Those are turloughs behind me (lakes formed by the underground rivers of the Burren overflowing and flooding the fields), they should not be forming until November but are everywhere. The summer here was even wetter than in Seattle and I've been told that there will be widespread flooding this winter in our area as the water has no where to go. Luckily I live on a raised area but the fields around us will definitely flood.

Mike and Eileen above the cool swirly patterned Burren pavement in the valley below.

That's Gordon D'Arcy. He's pretty amazing. He knows about everything we come across and is constantly enthusiastic. I like this picture,

It reminds me of this painting, The Wanderer Above the Sea of Fog, by Caspar David Friedrich:

The Bronze Age cairn (tomb) on top of the mountain:

The crazy swirly part of the other side of the mountain:

The strange and sweet horses that escaped their pen and followed us down the rest of the mountain. But it looked like they maybe did this all the time because there was a second gate further down that did stop them.

At the bottom we ran into a herd of about 80 of the indigenous feral goats of the Burren. They are an ancient species that roams the hills. Some of their horns curl all the way down to the ground and back up toward their heads. Just like the puppet goats in The Sound of Music, which this trip seemed a bit like.

At first Gordon had us keep our distance, but soon he couldn't help himself and he and a few others of us (me included) snuck up closer to the goats until they moved away a bit.

Me with a separate bunch of goats leaping away over the rocks. They run REALLY fast, and make giant leaps across and over rocks. If I had known that before I may have hesitated in sneaking closer to the big herd.

Bad weather coming in across the Burren: