Staring at a Painted Sky, Martina Cleary

There are nocturnal visitors. The quiet unseen life of the world when the traffic has stopped, and the planes are grounded. There is no more busyness now to distract the eye. If the night were only as full of the wild things as it once was. The forest, the bog, the marshlands and in-between spaces. I turn the camera on myself, becoming animal, returning to the world. Creeping about online into the small hours, imagining Africa behind the hedgerows.

Corona, the radiance of the sun made visible, when day becomes night. Time stands still for long enough to notice. A young elephant kicks its own waste in quiet despair. A penguin sits catatonic, staring at a painted sky. I pace the edges of this isolation, confined, listless, locked-down.

martinacleary.com

Published by PhotoIreland
Edition of 200
Softcover
36 pages
148 × 210 mm