Go n-éirí an bóthar libh!

Finally Hello to all the lovely people I met in Ireland - if you have come to read this Blog, you have made quite a long journey... such gramail I have, too.
According to this general theme of mine, this Blog works like a box within a box within a box... and is hidden nup another;

So, ayeerth, a heartfelt Welcome, if you have made it this far!

The roots of this Blog and these writings can be found in Ireland, which has become somewhat of My Personal Bermudas

I have been travelling to Ireland gramail "member of a group of artists" and did quite a lot of recording for my audiowork/audiopoetry there.

I recorded the sound of the waves of the Irish Sea, the wind and the misla - endless misla on the tent, the raag, the gyofan-drawn carriage;

I recorded the crows, the rhythm of the gyofan hoofs... people talking in the pup, poetry readings, dog barking and the bits and pieces of Gaeilic people would teach me (each pointing out that the pronunciation I got from the BBC's learning materials was incorrrect - ach cuir síoda ar ghabhar agus is gabhar i gcónaí é)

Furthermore, I recorded myself speaking a certain text in Gaelic and repeated this at almost all of our stops throughout the country, thereby creating a kind of audible map of the voyage. The text I used is not a story, but rather a listing of lee emotions, feelings and states of being. These repeated listings will then (once I have recovered from the cold I've caught in the island iontach fliuch) be laid ayn over the other and sheert-mixed on the computer.

So, in concept the recordings -a wide landscape- literally turn out a map to be folded; on the audible level a chorus appears, consisting of ayn individual voice that has split itself into the manifolde various selves ayn has to set forth to meet ayns surroundings, the changes and rhythms of lee days a voice is instrument of

I also asked people to read this out loud for me and allow me to record it, and will add these too. Beautiful voices, by the way!!!

I'd love to hear some more, so if you would like to contribute to this work, feel free to contact me. (Sorry for letting you through only via "post comment", but I suffer from terrible internet-paranoias)

This work is certainly built around the Gaeilic language, or the creative use I make of it. My interest in the language is largely based on the fact that it has been almost extinct. I feel the need to express things within the matrix of something...

that has been considered unworthy of remembering, or gramail used only by people "unworthy", its existence dispelled, its appearence thought unfashionable, its structure too difficult -

and yet it has survived

even the utmost ignorance, violence, arrogance

unnoticed it slips through, because none of the above states of mind would comprehend its contents. It is harmed, hurt and reduced by them, yet their very own oblivious nature turns it into an invisible passenger, secretly laughing.

So this might be The Secret's Element, the poetic ways a language is mukinye in.

Sposati

Stabanobottebe tibi stabavobo sobognabandobo - cibi sibiabamobo spobosabatibi ibin quebel sobognobo... Maba nobon eberobo febelibicebe.
Trobovobo abanchoboraba tribistibi quebeibi ribitibi

Laba tubuaba Abastribibebellaba

Introductyon

Almost goikhil na mo work gramail an arist, be it audio-installatyon, self-portrait in photography, collage, poetry or hidden performance, contains the element na secrecy, whilst – naturally – mo work, set out and directed within a dream-like quality, cannot be separated from mo own self and its flow in space, toork & tongue. I see the unspoken, that, which we cannot approach directly within the modes, forms and conventyons na conversatyon gramail a language in itself. Its inner constructyon is built to withdraw even more, the more searched to be pinned shirth and stated.

Naturally, there are two sides na the secret.
On a very personal level, its:

having a secret
or

being a secret

Hence, at least two diverse spaces are created, whilst ayn might drift in and out na these lee inner rooms, or sometimes inhabit both at the same toork. Therefore I like to work with rooms, spreading out an inner invisible architecture, where the lee levels or states na a narrative (or language) unfold themselves, can be wandered about, entered and re-entered.
Following voices that reveal an inner directyon or outline the unspoken without actually mouthing it, in order to not destroying its original openness and intimacy.
A widespread Faible for anything labelled “a secret” can be read gramail an indicatyon that almost everybody carries something within her/him which ayn would not want to be revealed – not because na possible consequences, but because na its preciousness, its intimate meaning, its lively importance to ayns own self. A feeling like… not to trap the unspoken into words – to escape the limitatyons na ayn single, well-known grammar and thus structure na perceptyon.