THE GAME, THE LEDGER and THE TRAIN

 Mr Johnny Christen and Mr Lou Cifer met on the first Sunday of each month at twelve noon, at the old railway station to play The Game, everything else on their agenda was put on hold.  No matter where in the world they were the first Sunday was kept free for The Game.  Nobody seems to exactly remember when it started  but if the truth be known it has been going on since man came to the conclusion that he has a soul and that it is worth protecting or fighting for but the funny thing is nobody has ever seen this so called 'soul', but Johnny and Lou seem to think it's worth playing The Game for, and besides they get the chance to catch up on events and compare notes, not that it really matters to them, for  they are just playing out another Game devised by man himself from his own little Mind.

The railway station was of simple buildings in highly polished black granite that you could see your own reflection in that black stone and never seemed to have aged with time.  In fact everything was in black granite, even the crows that sat in the trees seemed not to move and looked bigger than normal crows also had the appearance of black granite and eyes as white as marble that looked beyond you to some far off distance that only they could see into.  

As for Johnny and Lou , well .... they stood out in all of this .......

this reflecting black polished stone ... made quite the elegant pair too, for they took pride in their dress and how they projected themselves especially towards each other. Weakness in spirit was not on the agenda at any time of the day or night for they were always watching for the weak link in each other, to see who could break who, but till now they are on even footing and it seems it will always be this way.

Johnny Christen was dressed in all white. A white that gave off a glow that seemed to shimmer like a mirage in the distance, shoulder length blond hair that he now liked to tie back in a ponytail fashion and tied with a blue ribbon that matched the colour of his eyes. Eyes that were so deep you felt you could swim in them, eyes that were hypnotic and yet gentle that when you looked into them you seemed to drift into his body and felt to be part of him, but that was Johnny, 'all for you'.... His features were soft and skin that looked like polished ivory you felt you wanted to touch, tall, and carried himself gracefully as if his feet never touched the ground .... You remember that story about Johnny 'walking on water', there might be some truth in it after all.  

Mr Lou Cifer, as he liked to be called, what can you say, Lou Cifer was the original Playboy, dressed the part and  played it to the full. A real killer of a looker, a women's man and a man's man, the glorified all rounder.  Changed his suites as often as he said his name and that could be a thousand times in the day. Nothing on the dull side for Lou, bright colours and shoes to match his small feet, you would think he was walking with stilts, but for today it was red, his favourite colour and before entering the station it was canary yellow. He was the real chameleon in more ways then one. Tall with jet black hair in lose curls that made him look, well for the want of a better word, almost angelic. He had sharp and rapid movements in his walk you would think he was trying to catch flies, his features were more on the angler side and his skin always had a tan, just like fresh brown toast. His eyes were like looking into two big black holes that you could see your own reflection in if you dared to look into his eyes and when standing near him his body odour always had this smell of sulphur where as for Johnny he smelt like a blooming rose garden all the time. When Johnny and Lou stood side by side, and that was not very often, they looked like the hard and the soft version of the same person, but that's where it ended. Their intentions and their way of doing things were totally different, complete opposites, the black and the white, the good and the bad situation of all that's known. The Yin and the Yang of the human race.

The station master looked like a station master that you could see in any railway station around the world. Born for the part, looking busy, saying little and only when he was spoken to, his expression alert while walking about wrapped up in his own thoughts and importance, but everything was kept to a strict time table right down to the time he would permit himself to pee. You had the impression he never relaxed and that he was the same in his time off, or did he have time off ?.

Johnny and Lou were now seated on wroth iron chairs each with their own initials on the back in gold leaf scripted letters at a marble top table in the design of the chess board. The station master appeared from nowhere with the chess pieces and the all important Ledger under his arm which no Game could start without.  After arranging the pieces on the board the station started to fill in with people as if there was some kind of end of season sales on.  People of all colour, size and age, women children and men. A whole cross section of the Human race, the good and the not so good the strong and the weak, nobody was spared for they all ended up here in the station but one thing you noticed, apart from the station now quite crowded, were they all had the same expression on their face's, that of fear and being lost and not knowing what to do next or more to the point what was happening or where they were going. They were here now and there was no going back. 

The station master, Lou and Johnny paid no attention to the 'lost souls', now piling in at a fast rate and even though the station looked to be full to capacity they were still coming in but were no more then twenty feet away from the table and never seemed to cross over that invisible line and all looking in the direction of the station master and his Ledger, even those at the back who could not see what was going on were looking in the same direction. In his business like way the station master opened the Ledger and the Game was now in play, neither Lou or Johnny looked at each other or spoke a word nor the station master at them but all eyes were on the board. ''Mr.Christen and Mr.Cifer if you please'' ... The Game was in full play.

Johnny in his shimmering white suit was totally calm in his expression and Mind. Where as Lou, who now had a ultramarine blue suit on with matching shoes had one thing on his Mind and that was to win at all cost, for each chess piece gained and lost was the value of souls in grate numbers and it all went into the Ledger. There were no mistakes made here, because the Ledger was the final written word on one's one and only 'soul', ... so The Game decides onto what page your name goes into The Ledger. For all time.

As always Lou played black and Johnny white and once the first pawn was moved out to do battle The Train appeared not too far from where they were playing. This was no ordinary train, it was known as the 'Mystery Train' though it had only two destinations, and everyone knew that, up the track and down the track. No diversions and no stops, once on you could not get off and you had no idea if you were going up the track or down, only when the train stopped did you know where you were. It was truly the real 'Mystery Train'. It was made from crystal that glittered in the light  while it stood idle in the station and it's reflection in the polished granite was dazzling. When it was moving it made no sound and you saw nothing outside when it entered the tunnel just the light at the other end that was coming towards you, at the 'speed of light'.  It was always full to capacity but everyone had a seat, it wasn't thought fair that one should stand on their last journey no matter how you played out your life. For life is not a matter of chance, it's a matter of choice.

It was twelve thirty and the Game was in it's final stages of play, Lou was on the winning end, it was his time now and knew that the 'Train' was his, just two more moves and the Train was full and the station empty of it's 'souls', some knowing that their ticket on the 'Train' was paid for somewhere in their past. The Ledger now closed and the train was entering into the tunnel on the down track. Lou Cifer feeling quite pleased with himself and looking at Johnny through the black mirrors that were his eyes said,  '' J.C. this is my time now, temptations are like spiders webs, if some poor weak soul comes up against them, it is caught '' .... but Johnny Christen  looks at Lou with complete calmness and says,  '' And into deeper darkness fall those who follow, but a stronger one can break through and get away ''.

Mr Johnny Christen now in his black mourning clothes, and Mr Lou Cifer changed back in his red suit stood up and without further words passing between the two, walked out of the station. With the ledger squeezed tight under his arm the station master walks back to his office to wait for the next Game and for the Ledger to come out again, and more souls to show up for the 'Mystery' train ride of no return.  

When passing the sign board on the wall that nobody seems to pay any attention to when they enter the station, and never did and probably never will, he stops and looks at the twelve inch high letters in gold that looks in keeping with the black granite, and reads it out at the top of his voice for all to hear, but there is nobody about, not even a left-over-lost-soul. Even the crows have gone.

  
    One becomes good by good action, bad by bad action .   

I will see you all at our appointed Time in the railway station .........

CHECKMATE TO GOD

2004                                                                                   

Limestone, Ireland.

White Granite, Ireland.

Mirror

0.32m x 0.26m x 1m High

Private Collection

The Story

Not all sculpture needs the 'written word' to explain the meaning behind the work, some can 'speak' for themselves and  therefore the message that the sculptor is trying to convey is not lost to the viewer. When I show my work in exhibition I do not give the 'The Story' as to the thinking behind and therefore the making of the sculpture, I leave it to the viewer to form their own 'Story' through their emotions to the sculpture, but some works I feel need the 'written word' to help the viewer understand and therefore appreciate the work and where the artist was coming from with his idea to make the sculpture and ''CHECKMATE TO GOD'' is such a work that deserves 'The Story'.

My message in this work is; ''As above so below'' .....  these were also the words I kept in mind while in the process of making the sculpture. Starting at the top of the sculpture, the white granite pieces represent the Galaxy's, the 'heavens' as in the whole infinite universe and are movable as in the chess game. While moving the pieces we ourselves become the player, the god, therefore in moving the pieces we are responsible to and for 'everything', it's like raising our subconscious through our actions. The 'universe pieces' are placed on a mirror, '' As above so below ''. The mirror's form, as in the pointed corners, is my way of showing it all moves out in all directions and also to look like a compass needle, giving directions.... in any direction it will be the same situation ..... infinity.

The bottom stone, and not a pedestal, is one limestone block with the top part polished and represents 'Creation' holding it all together. The cuts into the edges of the stone are symbolic of 'time travel'. Standing on a white granite 'stone-section' of a circle, representing the 'perfection' in the Universe and Creation.

What you now have, as the viewer of  ''CHECKMATE TO GOD'' and after reading 'The Story' is the meaning behind the work and a glimpse into my 'thinking' in the making of the sculpture. The work itself , I will leave to your own subconscious mind, and the title ''CHECKMATE TO GOD''....... who's to know.

VICTIMS OF PURE COINCIDENCE

She pulled the classic M.G. off the road. She had no choice. There was enough power in the car, even though the engine had stopped for it to glide to the kerb side, it was the only fast reaction she had had all day, and it was now 2.10a.m. and raining constant since early evening. The ivory coloured M.G. sat there as if it was dying, steam coming out from under the bonnet like smoke signals sending out 'help' messages to any other passing cars, but none will pass.  This was not a good part of town to have a break down at any time of the day or night, let alone in a classic car. You even took a chance stopping at a red light, they were that quick that they could have your wheels striped off before the lights turned to green. She made a wrong turn, panicked and lost her way, driving around trying to find some bearings that she could drive her way out of this maze and the confusion in her mind, of course the five martini's with their green olive and no ice, didn't help any. It was OK when she was sitting at the bar trying to kill the pain of missing Mike. Not just missing him but feeling her life and all of life-kind  had ended, full stop, and it ended six months ago with him.

Mandy Gilroy sat behind the steering wheel not knowing what to do and started to cry and not for the first time today. She was breaking down and she knew it, but she didn't care. She didn't care anymore about anything, Mike Gorman had died, the only man she saw herself with in her life. He die, up and died. She could not accept it. Life was not without Mike. She was going down, down in health and down in mind. She wanted Mike back. She wanted him back, no matter what. She pleaded with the Devil to take her soul for in exchange to have Mike back. He was always nearby, like the bad boy standing on the street corner, waiting for opportunities just like this one to come by. She didn't ask God, oh no, He was in her bad books, she was blaming Him big time for taking Mike from her. God had a lot to answer for, and she wanted answers, how and where she didn't care, but answers were due. 'She wanted him back at any cost', is all she could hear in her head. It was all her mind and body energy was saying and sending out, and the Universe Energy heard it too. Non stop re-play, on and on, 24 hours, 7 days a week, 6 months ..... she wanted answers.

Mike and Mandy were the perfect couple. If you were not in their circle you hated them for making life look so good and being the perfect couple and if you were in their circle, you envied them to the point you felt so  incapable of having a relationship ... ever, or the one you were in was full of holes, like a sinking boat and you are bailing out water, as fast as it was coming in, but to hell with it you are drowning anyway. They had a nice but small four room apartment in Meadow Grove, facing the old park. A good part of town where you knew your investment was safe and you with it. They met three years ago by an accident on a sky slope, they slided into each others arms literally, trying to avoid the obvious accident on a skying holiday, and have been together since. They shared the same interests, extreme sports, good wine, jazz dancing, and movies of all kind just to escape into other worlds together.

Mike Gorman had it all when it came to looks, he had 'magazine looks', but was humble about it, never used it for his hormone quest. He had a good job in fashion design and a hobby that was becoming more than a hobby. He like to make welded steel sculpture and was getting some attention for his sculptures on the gallery circuit. He and Mandy would toy with the idea of living out their days in a good 'balance' with life. Mandy worked for a top advertising agency in the city. Worked hard and held a good portfolio and liked to write, mostly on travel and would write the odd short story now and again, had some published, and now putting down the 'rough' for a novel she was planning. Mike encouraged her to pursue her writing, but the 'encouragement' was equal from both sides, it help to create the perfect 'balance'. This was the plan. That was the life plan.

Mike Gorman was already six months dead on the same date the M.G. was dying by the roadside, and she could not let go of him, her pain was too much that maybe the M.G. also sensed it and decided to die too. The car was Mike's pride and joy. He personally restored it to prime condition sending away and waiting for months for the parts to arrive like an anxious child waiting for ice cream, and standing in the kitchen throwing a tantrum when it was taking too long to arrive. He was her baby. Mike use to joke about how the things he loved in life were too much of a coincidence and that they all had the same initials like his name, .... his true love, Mandy Gilroy ..... his joy ride, M.G. .... his perfect home in Meadow Grove, and the sculpture that got him some recognition for his work titled, 'Man Grue-some' .... 'To much of a coincidence', he would keep telling her. She would just smile and thought how complete her life was with Mike in it. Life without Mike was just not on the cards.

Mike Gorman took off early that morning. He tried the night before and in the morning at breakfast to see would Mandy change her mind and go bungee jumping with him. He wanted to try out a new jump he heard about but Mandy had a story in her head that was eating away at her and she wanted to see it in words on her laptop or at least the best part of it, that day. They said their 'good byes' over coffee that sunny morning, both understanding that respected 'balance' in their live, they were working towards. She heard the M.G. leaving the car park. It was a Sunday morning and most people were still in bed at that hour, and then heard it no more, nor did she hear it returning that night as promised in time for pizza. They were going out for pizza as was the treat they gave themselves on most Sundays, but not this Sunday. Destiny had other plans for Mike and Mandy.

Mandy put the phone down after spending an hour or so ringing around Mike's friends who would go bungee jumping with him. No .... nobody was with Mike that day. He was out on his own and he died because of it. They say it was a freak accident. He hit his head on an outcrop of rock ..... a freak accident. Nobody could understand how or why. He was an experienced 'jumper' that knew all the rules, but today he broke the rule of 'jumping on his own'. They found his car at first daylight and Mike still hanging on the end of his 'line' at the bottom. Swinging gently from side to side and in little circles with the side of his head open for all to see Mike Gorman's brains, and the crows, making a hell of a noise, lining up and jumping place,  looking on in anticipation of free pickings. Not a pretty sight now, poor Mike. The parting was painful for both of them. He, in his pain of dying through out the night, slowly, so slow, in the rain, feeling life as he knew it slipping away,  away, far away from Mandy, swinging, just like the dance from the hangman's rope, only it was his own rope, and his last dance. On his own, in the rain, swinging back and forth, like the wind was playing with him. 

It was too much for her now to cope with each day and today was a crap day by all means. She did not go to work nor would she answer her phone ... not to nobody. The two M.G.'s were dead in her life. It was just all too much for her as she sat there in the now dead car feeling all alone in the world and panicked. Some kind of life movement was starting to come back to her brain when she opened the car door and stood beside it in the rain, hoping beyond hope that somebody would come along. It was now 3a.m. and not another car in sight, 'what now' she thought as she saw the full on headlights of a 'monster' of a four wheel drive coming towards her at speed, too fast, unless he was running from something or to drunk to care. It was swerving all over the place like a swinging rope by the time it had reached her, and after it had hit her and crushed the side of the M.G. leaving her face down to die slowly on the side of the road in the rain. Mike was calling her to him, she knew it was Mike. She lay there choking in her own blood and  'Last Stop Bar' martini's. Her body now mixing it's own cocktail ... had a funny taste in her mouth, blood and martini. It will be the last 'taste' she will know.

She knew she was not going to get up, she didn't want too, and she couldn't if she tried. She was cold and hot together at the same time. She was slipping into pain and out. She wanted to be with Mike, at any cost..... and this will do just fine now .... no pain .... oh ... pain, like a twisting knife in her side, and that chocking feeling around her neck, now getting a grip on her mentally. No oxygen in the body no oxygen going to the brain. She wants and will go to Mike, to be with him, it's what she wanted all the time, in life or in death. She see's Mike, he is calling to her with that smile of his. She could hear distant music.... 'the car radio cannot be still on, it's not possible'..... she thought. 

She... could... hear...Mike...calling. 

She...could...smell... rubber... burning. 

She... could... sense... Mike... now. 

She... could... see... Mike....    

It was so easy to do ...... let go. She was getting her answers now in a rush. It's what she wanted, to be with Mike. She could see the banged up M.G. in the distance from 'that' bird's eye view. Mike beside her, warm hand in cold hand. It was so easy to do, let go .... and to let go of that pain too. She was happy now. She was with her Mike. It's what she wanted..... in life or in death .... so easy to let go.  They were two victims of pure coincidence. They were in balance now, Mike and Mandy.

PHAROAH - 2

2005                                            

Polished Granite - Brazil
White Granite - Ireland
Marble - Italy
Limestone - Ireland

Private Collection

0.61m x 0.40m x 2.15m high

FIFTEEN MINUTES .....

He was expecting more traffic for this time of the day but it was relatively quiet, if he was to tell anybody about it they would find it hard to believe him, it was always traffic jam at this time of the day in this part of the city, and so he thought luck was with him. They drove in silence, his mother, a hard woman at the best of times, not even made any comment on how free-flow the traffic was and so it was that they drove in silence for the best part of the hour and a half journey. It wasn't exactly a cold day, the winter had been mild for this time of the year and Christmas was not that far off, but his mother was dressed expecting the worst and in spite of the heater on in the car kept her leather gloves on, one hand on top of the other in a tight grip as if she was trying to stop her hand from running away from her body.  Her woolen coat, creamy colour with black and dark blue specks buttoned to the neck and brown sensible leather shoes  gave the women the appearance of somebody who had not the time of day to stand and gossip with friend or stranger. The expression on her face had that determined look about it, it was already giving out the definitive message that it did not want to talk nor did she look left or right but straight ahead. She had a mission, or was it that she was arranging her thoughts in her head, no matter, he thought at least she would be happy or say some words for this was the day her husband, and his father was been let home from the hospital in nice time to be with his family for Christmas.
Eric parked his old but still good car at the side of the road opposite to the place where he was buying a second hand compressor to help him in his work. He already put a cash deposit down as a down payment for the compressor which was been serviced before he handed over the final amount. What luck he thought to himself, to find a parking space right opposite the tool shop as he was parking the car. The last time he was here he had to park some distance away and on top of that he got a parking ticket for five minutes over the time, he was remembering as he turned off the engine. Turning to his mother with the stone face look, he told her he will be a couple of minutes that he wanted to check on a compressor he was buying. She did not answer him, just sat there looking ahead. This kind of 'game' she played was not new to him and he called it the 'poor me game'. Eric got out of the car, no point in wasting time for some response he thought as he was entering the tool shop. He was pleased with the way the compressor was been serviced, this is money well spent even though cash was tight for him now he was thinking to himself as he was getting back into the car. ' You were fifteen minutes', she was not asking, but in that tone of voice she was telling. ' Sorry.... we will still be on time, don't worry'. No she was not worried, she knew they would be on time, but still it was her way of reminding Eric that she still had some authority over him, she never had anything good to say to him at anytime in his life. There never was a mother son relationship between them and Eric tried not to let it bother him even though it did. It always did.
'Look ... there's the hospital now and we are still on time', Eric said as he was pulling into a parking space not too far from the main door. 'You were fifteen minutes', she said as she got out of the car and not bothering to close the door after her, now it started to rain, 'She will have something to say about that too', he thought as he was locking up the car, and sure enough as he was thinking about it out it came like spitting venom from a cobra, 'If you were not fifteen minutes we would not be caught in this rain now'..... Eric gave up, better not to answer, instinct was telling him as they walked up the granite steps to the main door. She in front with a stride that showed military like determination, and that was the body language she was sending out for all to see. It was one of those doors that opened on the pressure of your foot but for some reason it did not respond to her presence, like it was blocking her way, and it was only when Eric got to the door did the sensors do their job as if they recognized Eric, just like the doorman on posh hotels. If looks could kill Eric was a dead man, ten times over. 
Hospital smells took over their senses as they entered, a blind man could tell were he was if he found himself there for no reason. Eric was sharp on body language, honed at an early age from watching his mother for signs that would have some effect on him. He would joke to friends later on in life that it was body language he learned first before he could speak. He was doing it now, as it was his habit always to survey the surroundings and people in any situation, but it came automatically to him, and right now it was in top form for he noticed a small group of doctors huddled together to one side of the reception desk that when they entered they look directly at them as if they were standing naked in a church. His mother had not noticed them even though the doctors were now walking towards them as if trying to stop them from entering the hospital. It wasn't until they were marching in formation, as was the way to show unity as the group and blocking their way did Eric's mother notice them ....... 'We are sorry to inform you that your husband died fifteen minutes ago ..... we did all we could for him, but' .....
Eric turned to his left and walked towards the lifts, his mind going into a muddle of thoughts, he wanted to be with his father, while his mother collapsed onto the floor like a rag doll losing all control of herself and her emotions. 'Fifteen minutes' he kept saying to himself over and over as the lift climbed it's way up, 'Fifteen minutes' he said out loud as he held his father's cold hand as death was now claiming the body, pulling him further and further away from Eric. Eric stood there riveted to the floor feeling the life drain from his own body and waiting for some response that will never, ever  come ........ 'Fifteen minutes' .........


The caterpillar's end is the butterfly's beginning.

JUMPING SHIP

Standing at the railings smoking with the fresh smell of whisky on his breath and looking out at the port was like having a knife stabbed into his back, he hadn't been home for twenty two years. It was a cold night, cold outside and cold inside, in spite of the couple of shots of whisky he had taken before going on deck. The ship had been in port for two days now waiting to be unloaded with it's forty foot containers but they were on hold, the weather had slowed things down in the port to slow motion and everything was running behind time. He was uneasy and getting more disturbed in his mind the longer they were in port, he wanted to go to sea and the sooner the better. Things here had not changed much here in all of these years, in fact the dock was the same dock he stood on twenty two years ago. He was feeling more sick and disturbed inside the head the longer they stayed in port, crazy thoughts were taking over and memories running inside his mind like a badly made film that he has seen far too many times.              

Flicking his cigarette over board watching it disappear into the darkness he turned quickly to move down below when he heard the captain's voice calling him, 'Luciferro, I want a word with you on the bridge'. The captain was an old 'sea dog', one of those captains that would go down with his ship. He was now standing beside the captain and in spite of being on the bridge out of the cold, he was still shivering, 'Luciferro we know each other for a long time now, what fifteen years now'. Luciferro moves from one foot to another, short of doing an Irish Jig on the spot in his steel toed boots trying to keep warm and looking to port-side answers , ' yes captain'. 'This is your home port is it not', the captain now looking at his face knowing and knowing the answers to his intended questions but decided to back off and changed the subject. Luciferro looking lost in thought did not answer the captain, there was no answer, but the captain took no offence by it, they all knew Luciferro kept to himself in the engine rooms and had not much to say to anybody at the best of times. Took his meals on his own and would watch a football game in the evenings with his mates but never got excited like them over a game, he was not a 'team player' in life, he was a loner and liked it that way. The captain respected Luciferro, good at his job and made no trouble for him, if all the crew were like him he would say  'he would be the captain of a ghost ship'. Nobody knew his real name, 'Luciferro' was a 'nick name' given to him many years ago because he liked to work in the engine rooms of the ships. He took pride in his 'nick name' and would think about it with a smile on his face. The engine rooms were hot and noisy, maybe just like hell, and all that metal around him, well , he felt he was in control of a powerful beast moving across the seas. He was well named. 

Luciferro went to his cabin with the excuse to the captain he was not feeling well. The captain was uneasy with his feelings but let it go ...... for now. When a man spends twenty two years at sea, speaks of no family and keeps to himself you tend to give him wide 'berth', as they would say at sea. Six in the morning and Luciferro was not to be found, he did not turn up for breakfast and his bunk was not slept in, he was not in the engine room. The captain's 'feelings' were becoming a reality, Luciferro had 'jumped ship', and they had started to unload and going to sea in three days time, weather permitting. He could not wait for Luciferro if he did not turn up, jumping ship was an offence, but he decided not to write it up in the log, he will give Luciferro time and the benefit of the doubt, and besides he had his 'feelings', as to where Luciferro might be going.

Luciferro was on the road now well out of the port. He was making his way home, if there was anything left of it and the mother that rejected him while he was still in her womb ..... if she was still alive. He wanted to know did she still feel the same way about him and could a mother really reject her own flesh and blood. She had her own problems too, never married in life, he ran off to sea when she told him she was pregnant with his child. She would take to the bed for days on end with fits of depression and leave the boy to defend for himself. It all became too much for him when she would stand over him and beat him black and blue in the corner for no reason at all, but the 'reason' was because he was born, he had put an end to her life and the plans she had for it. She tried to abort him but was not brave enough to do it, to much guilt was already killing her, but she did it in her mind and did a good job of it too. He was born with the deep rooted feelings that stayed with him till this day.

Luciferro was standing on the other side of the street, cold in mind, body and spirit and lighting up again. The front door of the house was the same colour blue though it could well do with a new coat of paint and the bad memories came back to him, that 'knife' was turning in his back now. In a daze, he could hear his knocking on the door, his legs were weak and his heartbeat was racing far to fast, he felt he was going to get sick. He so much wanted to walk away but his legs would not carry him, he wanted to be back in his engine room with it's smell of diesel and the noise, he wanted to be anywhere but here. After what seemed eternity he was moving away from the door when it opened, 'yes' said the woman standing there in her house coat. Luciferro turned slowly but the words would not come out, she stood looking at him as lost as he was and was about to close the door when he said chocking from inside, 'why, why'? .....  Searching her mind looking for some recognition of the man standing at her door and then she asked, 'are you Luciferro'? 

He was in total shock when he found himself sitting in the small kitchen smelling of fish from last nights cooking, whisky in hand and the woman sitting opposite looking a lot older for her years, smoking. The old clock was still in it's same place on the wall with it's brass pendulum swinging from left to right, it was the only thing he was sure of doing anything within the next second, not even his brain could react that fast now. No words were spoken between them for some time, he was trying hard to get his thoughts  together, when he asked, 'how come you know my name'? .... she looked at him with the tears welling up in her eyes, stubbing out her cigarette and reaching for another for the sake of doing something ....
'the captain on your ship ..... he's your father'     

Why should it be that the three most difficult admissions are ......
'I am sorry',  'I was wrong',  'I love you'. 

  

PHAROAH

2004                                                           

Limestone - Ireland
White Marble - Carrara, Italy           


1.31m High x 0.36m x 0.2m

Private Collection                 

 

The Story

This piece of Carrara marble made it's long journey from Italy in 1912 by ship to Ireland along with the artisans and craftsmen who spent many weeks installing the main alter into a church. This piece was part of that same alter that I was asked to do some restoration work on which I replaced with a new piece of marble. The damaged piece of marble steeped in it's own history I kept and carved 'PHAROAH' from it. When you know the history of a stone you treat it special and hope you can do it justice in it's new life and form.

THE BIG HOUSE

Angela stood trance like at the kitchen sink staring out of the window and lost in memories that only she knew she would bring to her grave to stand in shame or so she felt, before her Maker. The water was now ice cold in the sink and the china cup in her hand, a permanent fixture for the last hour or more, the same cup she has washed for twenty eight years would not let go let alone it's own memories. Turning her gaze from the window and looking down at the cup she thought that the pattern, some far of oriental seine would have washed away by now, but it was his cup, the cup he used for breakfast in all of these years .... and she was angry, angry and alone. She was here by chance and not by choice.
She came to the Big House as it was known by the locals as a young and innocent woman, fair in complexion and fair by nature in spite of her upbringing, from the west of the island.  Straight from school to the Big House { from one institution into another }, her first true life experience away from home and into another world that was like moving from night into day, a world totally different than the one she had left. Her childhood home, if you could call it that, was not a happy one for the father had no time for the daughters, just for the sons who could help him work the farm but he was not a father to the sons, keeping the farm going and out of the reach of the banks, providing food on the table, all of this was good enough for him, he felt he was doing his part and what he did outside of the house was his business and nobody else could say different.
Her mother, older than her age and pretty when she was younger, now timid and shy lived in fear of her husband who was always angry with the world and his lot in it thought his daughters as a burden, 'only good for feeding hens' he would always say given the opportunity and reminded them of their weakness as women and the temptation that went with them. Angela could see herself taking on the personality of her mother and this was always her fear that she would end up like the mother, seen and not heard, but her brothers, maybe unknown to themselves but it was unlikely, were moulding themselves in the likeness, attitude and mannerisms of the father. So the women in the house had no chance unless they could marry into a better situation or move to the big town in the hope of a better life .... times were hard and they made hard people and affection was not to be found, unless you had a miracle in life.
Two days before she was to leave school and finish with that part of her life the Bishop came to the school to interview the girls for the housekeeper job in the Big House in the far off town that seemed to be in another world all together, older women were hard to come by who would take on the job of being a live-in house -keeper to a priest and besides they had their own families to try to care for. As the excitement went around the school like mass hysteria that one of the girls was going to be the lucky one to go to the Big House Angela seemed not to be affected by it all, she didn't think that she would be the one that was going to go and gave it no attention, all her expectations of what life should be were put down by her father, a bitter man from his own childhood and a father that left his mark on him.  When her time came to be interviewed by the Bishop she was calm in herself and answered his questions as if she was talking to her one and only best friend which she had none, 'no time for friends' her father would keep reminding her. The Bishop was impressed with her calmness and sincerity that she was given the job there and then, he did not want to see any more girls who were over egotistic and trying to please, if she wanted to go to the Big House as a live-in housekeeper the job was hers.  Of course she wanted it, to be on her own and away from the grip of her father ..... but she also knew she would miss the mother who tried to protect her daughters from her husband and knew that her mother would die in her own loneliness.
Twenty eight years in the Big House she thought to herself as she sat down in his chair as she would often do when he was not there, and now she could still sense his energy as if she was sitting on his knee. A lot different from life on the farm that was now a faded memory but now and then when life likes to play it's guilt game the emotional scares could rise up through her body as if reaching up from hell and through the foundations of the Big House and grip her by the ankles and pull her down, in did so in her mind, as if she was still there but now she was keeper of the Big House and protector of the man in it.
He was a young priest of twenty seven, not very tall with reddish hair that when the sun was behind him it looked like golden fleece. He had a happy nature that stayed with him through out his life, came from a good family, not well off in material things but had more of their fair share of family love and was given the freedom to do with his life what he wanted and he could have been anything he wanted to be for he had a good mind and quite a good head for business but the priesthood is what he always wanted and his parents supported and stood by him even in the times when he was feeling lost in his decision but that never lasted for long and it would pass without notice. He moved into the Big House twenty eight years ago and given his first parish to take charge of and care for the people's spiritual needs,  in fact they moved into the Big House on the same day, like a newly married couple, if only they knew what the future held for them.
It was still early in the morning for Angela had the habit of getting up at five thirty, it came from living on the farm because there was chores to be done before she went to school, staying in bed was a luxury she did not allow herself even at this stage of her life. She got up now from the comfort of his chair and realising she still had the cup in her hand let it drop, breaking into a thousand pieces across the wooden floor like stars in the heavens. Not bothering, and not like her to pick up the pieces she moved about the Big House as if she was looking for something but did not know what it was she was expecting to find, she was angry and alone, and then it came to her, she realised for the first time in twenty eight years that she was a prisoner to the Big House but a prisoner of her own making for she felt safe there and very rarely would she leave it for any length of time, but she would never admit to herself that she did not like to be away from from him. He would have made a wonderful father to some lucky daughter , she often thought to herself but was more than happy he had chosen the priesthood, she had him to herself in the Big House.
She was now standing at the foot of the double bed with it's  'Sacred Heart' picture and little red cross light, on all day and night, and  never seemed to need replacing in all of these years, seemed to be floating on the wall behind the bed.  His weekday coat, he could be doing with a new one, on the back of the chair where he would sit and read his Bible before breakfast, 'courage for the day' he would tell her, she could almost hear the words now as if he was standing beside her. Turning her back to the bed she started to leave but stops before reaching the door and fell to the floor on her knees, she had no control over her actions or emotions and started to cry at first and then calling out his name twisting her hands around till they were blood red fell face to the floor and lay there with no attempt to pick her self up. How long she was lying on the floor she does not know nor did it matter to her for there was nobody in the Big House, nobody to comfort or share her pain for these walls were like the confession box, they see and hear but could not tell.
It was dark now when she started to pick herself up from the floor, looking around her as if nothing had happened and walking towards the window to pull the curtain's before making the bed ready for the night she remembered she had a funeral to go to in the morning.  She wasn't too pleased with his behaviour in leaving her alone .

We cannot predict the future but we can invent it .....

HUMANMAN

2004

Irish Granite

0.88m x 1.65m

Private Collection

WHERE DO WE GO .....

 The rains were non-stop at times now for the last three weeks and the fishermen could not go out to sea nor could they stay in their homes , they were out-door people and staying under a roof other than to sleep was not in their nature , so they would meet up in the coffee shop passing their time in playing cards , telling worn out stories and debating about the weather .  Some times the debates would turn into miner rows , they were edgy over the weather and this was understood amongst the men , they needed to go to sea , money was getting spent and nothing coming in , it's enough to make any man uneasy .
Two old fishermen were sitting in the corner of an even older coffee shop that seemed to be always there , smoking and looking at the younger men and thinking they have it all ahead of them , young fools .  The older of the two by three days turned to the other man , a life time friend , never seem to be apart that most people thought they were brothers for it was the older man's mother who reared the two when the younger man's mother died giving birth to his twin brother not too far from where they were sitting ,  in fact in the back room of the very same coffee shop they were sitting in now . The older man by three days asked , with some concern on his face ,   '' Where do you think we go when we die ''? .....   '' Why do you ask , do you think we came from somewhere and that we go back to it , and what kind of question is that , you never struck me to be one thinking about such things like that '' .....   '' Well I have been giving it some thought for some time now , so where do you think we go when we die ''? .......
The other old man was now feeling older than he was never gave such things like dying any thought , it just wasn't in him to think such things but now it started to play on his mind that when he looked at his friend he was looking at his twin brother.  Both men sat there in their one thought and looking at the younger men getting excited over the cards , some losing badly needed money that would be hard to make up again and others trying to make up for the lost of earnings at the cards , that at times you could feel the tension in the air along with the smell of coffee , stale cigarette smoke and rain.  The owner of the coffee shop , now third generation coffee shop owner , even though he was glad of the business had been through times like this before , but now he would be happy to see the rains stop , and when passing the older fishermen in the corner said ,   '' They are getting restless with no where to go but here , cooped up in this place as if it was their coffin , I wish they go to sea soon and for this rain to stop so things can go back to normal ''
The older men now turned to each as if the answer came to them both at the same time but the one who was asking the question did not speak but just had a grin on his lips and seemed now to be at ease with himself , as for the other he just smiled and said ,  '' We go to sea .''

THE NATIVE and THE MISSIONARY

A young fourteen year old native boy is sitting outside the longhouse cross-legged on the bamboo ruai [ verandah ] with his grandfather. The afternoon sun after the rains was rising in temperature and the dogs lazing near by waiting to see was the old man going hunting, a way of life that had not changed much with the old man but for the grandson it was a different matter altogether. The missionaries had come and young minds are curious to hear new and far away stories of lands especially when they are promised a better 'after life' if the life they live now is kept to the rules of a book that was written in more years past then there are trees around the village.

The grandfather decided not to hunt that day because he could see that the boy was not his talkative self and had something on his mind, besides, yesterday's hunt brought a lot of meat into the village to be shared out. The dogs knew it was now getting late and there will be no hunt today started to move off towards the river. The old man was always telling the boy to speak his mind and not to carry the thought around like baggage for it will weigh him down both in body and mind. He was just about to ask the boy what it was that was on his mind when the boy saw the missionary coming towards them avoiding the puddles of rain water in such a way it gave one the impression that if he stepped into one he was going to burn like the flames of the hell he was always talking about. The boy stood up so quick that the grandfather thought the boy was going to run in the opposite direction but instead stood his ground. Before the missionary reached them the boy had already started to speak, the grandfather taken aback sat upright and listened ...

''Why missionary man you tell me about your God, before you came here grandfather told me the way of the spirit-of-the- forest but you tell me about this heaven and hell place that I cannot see, smell or walk into like the rain-forest ... and now ... I am afraid to move from this place, but when I only knew the spirit-of-the-forest my life was easy for me ... but now not so. I live in fear of this God you talk about.'' The old man looked at the missionary who looked away for he knew deep inside himself that the boy just might be right. For the man to impose his 'beliefs' on another should not be done without the permission of the other for there is too much to answer for now and in the future. The grandfather, lost for words and full of pride for the boy moved off towards the river to be with his hunting dogs.

The boy now left standing on the bamboo ruai and looking towards the river was more 'lost' then ever before. He never got his 'truthful' answer form the missionary who walked away stunned, no longer caring about the puddles of rain water and questioning his own 'beliefs' and his way of doing things of imposing his God on a culture to change their ways just by his words.

The moral of my story is ...
Before we act we should think about the result and consider that each and everyone is responsible for what they have done in life and for the people they have influenced .

CAIN and ABLE

Two old men , Cain and Able are ending their days in a home where people go for many reasons . They have all of their lives worked , raised family's , paid their taxes and prayed to their God and now are paying to end their days in ' comfort ' and spend most of their time going over in their minds  ' What if I had it all over again ' syndrome . The two in a way depended on each other for consolation in the  ' What if ' syndrome , things they talked about was just not talked about outside of themselves and their friendship grew deeper in that , for each was telling forgotten secrets .

One afternoon , Able , who was partly deaf in both ears turned to Cain who was blind in both eyes but also ' blind ' to many things in life , did not do a lot if thinking for himself and therefore was quite content to go with the majority for the sake of a ' quite life ' .......... '' CAIN '' ...... Able shouted , '' No need to shout you can ' see ' I am right here beside you '' ........ '' Yea ..... sorry , but I just had one of those thoughts that stab you like a knife from behind ''........ '' This should be good '' answered Cain and getting himself ready for some heavy duty ' insight ' lit another non-filter which reminded him to get another pack regardless what the doctor said . Three packs a day and still going but always said throughout his life '' It won't be the smokes that will kill me but somebody back stabbing me will do the trick ''.

Able , keeping in mind now to keep his voice down and looking around him quickly always had this fear throughout his life that someone was sneaking up on him said , ....... '' You know we have been the best of friends now for the last couple of years we are just like ' brothers ' in fact you can almost say we are ' family' '' ....... '' O.K. cut the crap and get to the point '' said Cain showing his short temper that at times could make Able feel the air around him turn cold . '' Well as I said it's just a thought , but I never really did ask you what you did in your early years for a job ''.

Cain , uneasy with what he had just heard but giving it a long thought and blowing out rings of smoke that looked like halos drifting towards Able decided to answer truthfully , might as well say it now than go to the grave with it , .......  '' I was a mercenary  '' ...... '' Well I'll be damned '', said Able ,  '' Who would have thought that ...... a missionary ''.

THE YOUNG NATIVE

A young native of the rain-forest lived all of his life in nature thinking and knowing that it was the giver of all he needed in his life .  He respected the nature and knew it's ways that was passed from father to son and was doing the same for his own son who was also going to school during the week and returning home at the weekends to his family .  He was not keen on the separation but the distance by river was too much to travel each day . 

One weekend , father and son were out hunting and the father could see that his son was not the happy boy he once was when out hunting before . The father sat the boy down on a fallen tree left by the people who were cutting down the trees for profit and in doing so forcing the young native to travel further into the rain-forest to hunt for food for his family , but he also knew that man cannot replant the rain-forest and in time it will claim back it's ground but not fast enough for him to be able to hunt in this area again . 

The young native sitting on his hunkers and thinking , how easy it is to become a father and how hard it is to be a father was now looking at his son and seeing himself , not for the first time in his son when he himself was a young boy and maybe having something of the same thoughts said ,  '' There is something on your mind that has taken you away from the hunt ''.  The boy holding on to his blow pipe so tight that his knuckles were turning white answered ,

'' Father you tell me to go to school so I can have a better life and I want , but I also see you happy in your ways in the rain-forest and I am between the two worlds as to where my future is ''.  The young native realising his son had given this a lot of thought tried to answer in an honest way that his son would not lose heart and said , '' When you look around you here in the rain-forest you know you are in a safe place but more when you are in tune with your surroundings and respect the nature , but no matter where in the world you are you can still be in a safe place , the world is your rain-forest now and education , not just in the school is your travel ticket .  For a father to expect his son to fill his place is not fair to his son ''. 

The boy now relaxing his grip on the blow pipe and that smile returning that his father knew so well , realised that the days he was now spending in the rain-forest with his father , the young native wise for his age , is the way he wants to remember his father , for these memories will be his guidence and comfort in his own adult life .

THE LETTER

Two long time friends are sitting on the same park bench as they have always done . One of the men , folding up the well read government letter telling him that his only son will never be returning home , and putting it into his pocket with a long sigh said , '' Do you think that if we were two brothers or a father and son that we could sit here for most days not speaking a word and be content in our own company ''. His friend , who was well use this kind of talk from his friend asking ' life and death ' questions , stretched out his feet and said , '' I don't know , but if so it would be the best friendship that anyone could ask for in a life time ''........... '' yea '' ........... and the government letter came out again for another read in the hope that the words would have a different meaning .

'' Everyone , with no exceptions has past misfortunes but they also have their blessings . To pine over what cannot be undone is to die a slow death ''.

A DOG'S LIFE

Two dogs , one black , one white and both loyal to the hand that feeds them are sitting on a bank of a paddie field in a hot sun , half dozing but alert to the sounds of their owners bent over planting rice and talking , some to themselves in a complaining tone which the dogs are use to hearing .  One of the workers slowly straightens himself up in a slow stretch and looking at the dogs says ,  '' It's a dogs life ''.  The black dog hearing this been said so many times asked the white dog ,  '' What does he mean it's a dogs life ''?  The white dog scratching himself answers ,  '' Our owners see only what they want to see and say only what they want to say in words that suit their feelings , even though they have it all up side down '' 
    '' That's funny '', said the black dog ,  '' They have their backs bent  for the most of the day , hands in mud and looking at the earth all their lives planting to survive , they are always up side down ''. The white dog stands up watching some movement in the water behind his owners back said ,  '' Yea ....... and every dog has his day ''. 
The two dogs now standing and alert watching the movement in the water making it's way towards ' the hand that feeds them '  barked 
'' SNAKE ''  and ran at full speed towards the paddie field .

TWO FOXES

Two foxes are sitting on top of a hill looking down at hens going about their daily business .  One of the foxes was a lot older and more experienced in catching hens and tended to take his time , surveying all that he saw and to be sure he was going to come away with a hen or two when he made his move .  The younger fox getting all excited in seeing so many hens and looking for the biggest sack he could find was working himself up into a sweat thinking of the number of hens he was going to come away with when he made his move . Now the older fox was so relaxed that he took a nap but this was too much for the younger fox that he was getting all stressed out , heart beating at twice it's pace , feeling weak and starting not to think straight , all he wanted was to move on the hens .  The older fox , smelling stress and fear opened one eye and looking at the younger fox told him , take it easy , sit and relax , smell the air , but the younger fox all he could do was smell hens .  Look , said the older fox , the hens are going nowhere so what we do is wait till they had their fill then when we move they will be so full they won't be able to run that we just pick them off like fruit of a tree ...............


'' It is best in all aspects of life to have a little patience and understanding , this comes with maturity and lessons learned from the past that bridges in the future can be crossed ''.

J. and S.

Two shepherds , J. and S. are watching over their sheep grazing when one of the shepherds , S. speaks ,  '' we have been friends since childhood and neither of us have ever been outside of these hills in our life so what we see here we feel is the same everywhere else , do you ever think about that ''?.  The other shepherd , J. looking out at his sheep and having to stop counting answered in a soft voice ,  '' no , with a grin on his face '' and started back to count sheep again , when his friend S. said ,  '' why are you counting , just like me you know exactly how many sheep you have and just like me you have 666 , never any more and never any less , but the only difference is all of your sheep are black where as mine are all white , do you ever think about that ''?.  J. , having to stop his count again , but with calm and in his soft voice answered ,  '' no , what is here is the same all over , black sheep and white sheep and the day will come when all will be taken away, this is what has been said since all shepherds have been counting sheep ''.
The two shepherds , J. and S. friends for all time and content with their way of life in their hills as it was and as it will always be , started to count sheep .