Dingle Twilight.

This is Dingle harbor after the sun has set. Twilight lasts a long time in Ireland but the fishing boats are home and the town is settling in for it's usual evening activities. Drinking, praying and telling stories.

Kerry Wedding.

I painted this while I was in Ireland waiting for the INS to decide whether or not to let me into America. It took them 14 months. The uncertainty of it all made it difficult to paint, but I did this; a wedding in Dingle. The churl in the green suit has to marry the girl. You can see that he is unhappy about the whole thing. On the whole, he would rather be drinking a pint in his local pub.

The Half-Moon SC.

This is another picture of the Half-Moon SC. On the South Wall of Dublin Harbour. There is a red lighthouse half a mile further on. On the left you have a priest caught el flagrant e with his trousers off. The 2 alter boys are holding up towels to screen his particulars from the rude gaze of the other bathers but a lady has snuck up on them all. She even got past Hellfire, the priest's dog. The wall was constructed by convicts at a time in Irish history when it was easy for an Irishman to be a convict in his own land. The images you see in the flagstones are not there in real life but represent the spirits of those convicts forced into slave labor for some petty offense against the English rule of law.

Winter Harbour

In winter, a lot of boats are laid up in Ballydavid. But although I call this place Ballydavid, That is the name of another village which gives it's name to the townland; it really has it's own name which is Baile Na n'Gall. This means Town of the Strangers or Foreigners. This is a very nice Irish village with a post office and two Pubs.What more could you ask for except maybe anther pub with free beer.

Mending nets in Ballydavid.

As the Sun declines this old fisherman is still out there working at his nets.

Dreaming of Spuds.

This farmer lives close to me in the village and he likes nothing better than a whole potful of potatoes thrown out on a big plate on the table. More than three men and a dog could eat in a day. but he eats 'em.

Setting the World to Rights.

Two Kerry farmers set the world back on a sensible course after a few pints while the drenched kitten on the bar looks on.

Sammy.

Sammy, my Shiba Inu, is a lovely fellow that I rescued from the pound.

Saving the Hay in Ardamore.

I have a house in Ardamore, Ballydavid, Co Kerry. And I love the paintings of Vincent van Gogh. So this is a painting I did of a nearby field after the Master.

This is my daughter Muireann when she was about 6 years old. She is a lovely girl and is now a grown up bluestocking who can speaker in divers tongues, as befits a Mermaid. She is presently studying, or has taken, her Master's but even so her communication skills with her father leave much to be desired. But sensible fathers quickly learn to leave their beloved D's to their own devices.

No Smoking Ever.

In 2002, The ruling party in Irish politics "Fianna Fail." decided to ban smoking in all Irish restaurants and pubs and this has had a profound effect on Irish life. Many country pubs have closed down and those that haven't only open in the evenings now. No doubt it has health advantages for some but surely it means that more drinking will be done in the home thus making the Irish that bit more insular. I personally dislike the nanny approach to government and I firmly believe that we should be allowed to go to hell in our own way so long as we are not hurting anyone else.

Portrait of the Artist as a Happy Drunk.

I am not usually as bald as this but I gave the wrong instructions to my barber on a very cold day and this was the result. But was I unhappy? No just very bloody cold.

Boland thinks he is Playing the Guitar.

The cat hated it whenever Boland started squeezing the box. He would curl this way and that to avoid the awful sound of Boland's attack on the musical art, then finally he would run up the stairs spitting and fuming all the way.

The Christmas Morning Swim.

This is the Half Moon Swimming Club. It is on the southern wall of Dublin Harbour. When I was a youth I used go up there on my bike to swim and listen to the older men telling yarns. Because of it's situation astride the wall and so far along it was easy to see any female figure if they happened to venture that far. Then someone would cry " woman on the wall!" and there would be a casual covering up of the male distinctions. Some would just drape a newspaper over themselves, others would don a bathing suit and a few hardy ones would dive into the sea. The women when they arrived would develop an inordinate interest in the other side of the harbor So was possible for the men to parade around in the nude and many ridiculous sights were to be seen there. But this was Christmas morning and many of the members liked to demonstrate their hardihood by swimming in the freezing cold waters of the bay. I did it myself when I was young and foolish enough to want to impress my elders. I never actually saw a priest, let alone a Bishop on Christmas Morning but this is a painting and the imagination has to run free.

A Summer's Day in Ballydavid.

Now and then, mostly then, we have real sunshine in Ireland and everybody goes mad ripping their clothes off to get in the water or messing about in boats. But there are those who know better and they believe that getting neked is no good for a man unless he is watching a woman do it.