A Walk around North Abbey graveyard, Youghal, Co. Cork.

Two Centuries.

Father Figure.

Still a Rose.

Blue.

Whole World In His Hand.

Colours in a dark corner.

Urn.

Fallen Cross.

Companion.

Heavenly Point.

Restful Corner.

Flying the Flag.

We all have crosses to bear...

Discarded but still a Rose.

Scroll of Life and Death.

In the shade of that old oak tree...

Nan, Pap and Danny.

The Last Lap.

View from the New Section.

Window to the Past.

The Merchant Plaque.

A Dilemma...

I'm confused and dazed..or is that dazed and confused?  Whatever the case may be, I’m in a quandary.  To fully explain the whole sorry mess I had better go back into the Time Tunnel a bit.

      Youghal Heritage Festival 2011

 I was born in 1960 and I first began using a camera around the time I was ten or eleven and have been ‘shooting’ ever since.  Through the expensive days of film when buying the film meant saving pennies. Through the expensive days of saving even more pennies to then get the prints done.  Often the gap between taking a photograph and seeing if it was worth taking could be weeks, or even months.  Time spent wondering why the hell I was obsessed with this photography thing.  Time spent wondering if I could ever make money put of this obsession More often than not, about half my efforts would be ok and are good examples of an art, even decades later.

                                            St. Patrick's Day Parade 2012 in Youghal, Co.Cork.

Then came digital and the whole world of the photography-obsessed nutcase changed irrevocably forever.  Nothing would ever be the same again.  However, the arrival of digital cameras also created another problem, now EVERYONE could take a reasonable photo without having too much knowledge of the craft.  True, the prices of the early digital models was exorbitant and many people continued, and still do, to use 35mm and similar stock for many years.  In time though the price of the average digital camera began to drop, the quality of the cameras increased expediently and more and more ordinary people began to buy into this new technology.  It’s all good, I have no problem with every inhabitant of the planet owning and using a digital camera if they so wish.  They are not a luxury, they are in some cases a necessity, like for recording family events or historical events.  And of course the “Professional” photographer needs one to carry out his duties across the globe.   Still all good.  

                                             St. Patrick's Day Parade 2012 in Youghal, Co.Cork.

 In time, film cameras will die out completely and will be only a memory.  I’ll miss them if they go in my lifetime but that’s progress for you.  And progress it is, no matter what the romantic hold is on a dirty manky dented Olympus OM10. I did own an Olympus OM10 for a while, they are a beautiful piece of late 20^th century technology and deserve to be venerated the way they still are.

 

                                             St. Patrick's Day Parade 2012 in Youghal, Co.Cork.

 I’ve now come out of the Time Tunnel and these days am getting frustrated at the way my photographic efforts are proceeding.  It is all down to money.  Dirty filthy rotten bloody money! 

Money needed in order to keep my family fed and clothed.  Money that I need to keep updating my lenses.  Money that I need to keep changing my camera every few years.  Money to replace storage cards that suddenly dis-integrate when in use, they do, believe me! 

I'm not obsessed with money but I would like to get paid a few euros now and then for my photographic content.  I would like to be asked before the editor of a “Community Newspaper” publication swipes one of my pics from the online version of another newspapers edition and prints it themselves.  And in the case of that last part, said “robber” then proudly states on the same page that all photos he publishes in his “Community Newspaper” are for sale!  Well thanks very much!  Glad he is going to make some money out of the likes of me!  I think not.  I'm going to ring enquiring about the latest one of mine he has “borrowed”, pretend to be some Yank who likes it and ask how much it will cost.  Then I will sit back and see if he will try and track down the owner of the image.

Me.  

                                                         Youghal Heritage Festival 2011

Danone Cup Regional Finals 2012

 The Danone Cup Regional Finals were held this morning at Dysert Park, Ardmore.  Teams taking part were Ardmore AFC and Ballybridge Utd from the WWEC Schoolboy League and two teams from the Cork Schoolboy League, Carrigaline and College Corinthians.

The photos on this post are from the Ardmore vs Carrigaline game.

The College boys won out in the end but not before two nerve wracking final games in which Ardmore, Carrigaline or College could have taken the title depending on results.  A great mornings soccer was enjoyed by a sizeable crowd and the U-12 teams on display weren't short on committemnt or talent, even if the season has been over with weeks for some of them.

The event was superbly marshaled by Tom Power and Vinnie Coonan of the WWEC Schoolboy League and officiated over by the Griffin brothers, Paul and Kieran, from nearby Youghal.

Last Train To Youghal...

I was in Youghal last week, Thursday 10th May to be precise, and seeing as the day was so nice, decided to take a trip to the beach to take a few photos.  I had my Canon EOS350D in the car and off I went toddling along the beach taking in the sun, the sand and the cool summer breeze.  It really was a beautiful day and I couldn' help but begin to wonder how many thousands of people had come to this lovely part of Co. Cork down the decades gone.  Many of them traveling down from Cork city on the Cork city to Youghal rail line, buckets and spades with the kids, flasks of tea and ham sandwiches with the adults; and a few bottles of porter no doubt hidden away in a coat pocket as well.  

Sadly, the rail link to Youghal is now a thing of the distant past; a victim of inept management, poor foresight and downright " couldn't care less" attitude of Iarnrod Eireann (Irish Rail).

 People still come to Youghal Beach from all parts of the country.  By car.  By bus.  By motorbike.  By bicycle.  Even by boat.

No more by the gentle rumbling of a train carriage though.

Choo Choo.

Thou Shalt Not Steal...

Below is a photograph I took in July 2009, at the Ardmore Pattern Festival in Ardmore.  It's a good action shot, of a powerboat heading back toward the beach area of the village during a display.  It is by no means a big favourite of mine or anything, just another shot taken on an ordinary enough afternoon.  The organisers of the Ardmore Pattern Festival asked me if they could use it, and some others I took, on their website for future promotion.  I let them, on the condition that if anyone else was to take an interest in the work as a result of seeing the photos on their site then they, the Festival organisers, would clear it with me first.  Do you know where this is heading?  Oh for the record, I didn't ask for any payment from the Ardmore Pattern Festival as they organise a fine festival every year and a lot of them would be friends of mine.

 Now here is where it gets interesting.  About a year after this photo was taken, a man who operates a seasonal sea adventures business asked for use of the same image and I let him use it, again free of charge.  Now for the interesting part to the story...

Six months ago, the Waterford Leader Partnership, a semi-state body who give grants to, support and nurture, and generally take on board good business ideas from individuals and businesses in rural Ireland, decided to publish a very well laid out catalogue of businesses that they have supported with grant aid over the last few years. Two of those businesses happened to be the sea adventures guy and the Ardmore Pattern Festival...

Waterford Leader Partnership decided to "borrow" my image from one of the online locations and use it as part of their very well put together catalogue and to also include it as part of an audio visual PowerPoint which they brought on display to various towns and villages in Waterford, including my home village Ardmore...

To say the presenter of the AV promotion was red-faced when I asked her if she had gotten permission to use my image...

I leave the rest for you to decide...

Mind your pics, you never know who might take a shine to them...

The House

   It stands like a last outpost of some rapidly dwindling kingdom; it's rooftop visible from all points of the compass even though wild shrubs and high skinny sallies almost completely surround it and have done so for many years now.  There is one single solitary sentry of a door, hanging off one of its two original iron hinges, rust covers everything metal in this place and the door hinges are no exception.  Some of the windows are intact.  Some are not. Their softwood frames are valiantly trying to hang on to the glass that they have framed for decades, glass that children looked out through on cold frosty mornings before they walked four miles to school.  The window frames are trying to  stem the aging process just like the rest of us lie about our age or try some magic potion to stop the march of time. 

 Paint is peeling from the door.  Paint is peeling from the walls inside.  The floors of concrete have long since sagged and sunk into the earth below them, children once played on floors here, their knees sore from kneeling down playing marbles.  An electric light cable hangs from one of the ceilings.  A reminder of a short lived experiment in 1967, when my father erected a small windmill on the roof to generate electricity; the house was not on the National Electricity grid and would never be.

Many hands put a thumb on the latch to open this door, between 1944 and 1968; from my grand-father who was the first owner through to my father who closed the door for the last time in February 1968, when he took his wife and four children to a different part of the parish to live. 

I was one of those children.

 

Take a Break...

Sometimes we get so caught up in the mad rush of trying to fulfill all our goals that we forget the one thing that goes with all great creative work.  Rest.  Our minds need a break.  Our bodies need a break.  People we annoy, harangue and cajole for favours need a rest from us too.. 

This simple wooden bench is situated on the Cliff Walk,  in Ardmore, starting point of which is about fifteen minutes walk from my home.  It was put at the eastern side of the walk, near the end, to allow those who had almost completed the picturesque ramble take a little break before re-entering the hustle and bustle of the streets and lanes of our seaside village once again. 

It's been a while since I walked the Cliff Walk and until recently it had been a while since I took a break.  

Yes.  We all need a little break now and then.  Try it.