Cards

Inspiration

Most of what I paint stems from the Sixties, growing up in and around Eyeries, helping out collecting turf at the bog, going out to sea in the big black boats. There were outboards, but I tend not to paint them in as my memories are more of the oars and sheer pleasure of rowing out even though it was far from easy. I knew a man by the name of Dan Murphy, who was the harbour master in Ballycrovane

Myself in my mother's boat in Ballycrovane circa 1965

He tarred my mother's boat each winter and never took a penny for his troubles. I can see him now with a wry smile leaning against the rocks near his boat shed. He'd light his pipe, it had a tin cap to keep the baccy dry and after a few puffs he would place the pipe in the front peaked part of his cap. As a child of eight I would often wonder why his hair didn't catch fire. He used to tell people to go out after the fish 'before they died of old age'. I have known Ballycrovane most of my life and Dan's house often finds its way into many of my paintings, as does the man himself and others I knew. We'd go out as far as Eyeries Island, maybe a little further some evenings, the hollow sound of the wooden boat when the sea rocked against the hull, and you'd be wondering how many mackerel you'd catch on your line of six feathered hooks.

I grew up in a traditional farmhouse, 3 foot wide walls and a slate roof, like the one above, listening to people talking. People talked much more back then, stories about life. Back in days when television was still much of a novelty. You would sit around the range in the kitchen and gossip, and the little ones would go off to sleep and you'd never mind what time it was. One of the things sadly missing from today is the smell of turf burning. Occasionally someone will be burning it and you'll catch it on the air and immediately your mind goes back to those days when life was through the eyes of a child.

I have always loved the way the clouds drag themselves across the mountains, like in the above picture of the Caha Mountains. Sometimes people tell me clouds don't really behave like that, here is the proof. Below are a couple more examples

These are the things that inspire me, where my mind goes when I paint. The lonely house in the mountains stems from a feeling of wanting to feel protected from all the dangers of life. The mountains are like guardians, not just sheltering from the storms. Every so often I am forced to go to the big city, but thankfully I know my way back to Beara where my heart is.

John Eagle