On rubble, embers, distraction
Many things have kept me from this newsletter in recent months. Ideas certainly weren’t the problem. I’d start writing in my head, or type scraps, but it never made past my drafts. The blame lies firmly on finishing a book (more on this below) but also, the news is horrendous in many corners of the world. The feelings of helplessness and revulsion are at odds with what I’m reading (a lot less than usual this year), writing (are you joking?) or thinking [redacted]. Earlier this month, myself and some writers and musicians including Blindboy, Sally Rooney, Louise Kennedy and Michael Magee held a night of readings and music at Dublin’s Vicar Street. We raised €17,000 and a further £8,325-and-counting via a Just-Giving page for those who couldn’t make it on the night. If you’d like to watch it back it’s here. Please consider making a donation - all money goes to Medical Aid for Palestine. If you’re a writer, artist, musician, actor, or work in the creative arts, you might want to sign the ISPC’s artist’s pledge, which now has over 1800 signatories.
The photo at the top of this newsletter is an image from Rehearsals, an excellent show by artist Yvonne McGuinness that explores concepts of home, diversity, foundations (literally) and future aspirations, using performance, textiles, video and objects. The attacks in Palestine had just started and I found many connections: community, displacement, children from other countries trying to forge a life, but specifically the rubble of a building in the image, next to a blue tarpaulin. My first thought was Gaza, and then Maggie Nelson’s Bluets (and her analogy that a blue tarp flapping could be “the fingerprints of God”). There’s a fascinating film showing upstairs about concrete, home ownership and the psychogeography of buildings that should not be missed. Rehearsals runs until January 14th at Kilkenny’s Butler Gallery.
More than past Decembers, I’ve been crawling to the finish line of the year. I took on too much work in 2023. A stupid thing to do when doing final edits on a novel, a process I hope I’ll one day say I enjoyed, but for now, feels firmly the opposite of that. Proofs of Hagstone are landing in the world and this inspires a particular kind of fear.
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