I was still haunted by my earlier visit to Newgrange and the Boyne Valley. As I lay sick nightmarish visions and hallucinations followed by intense periods of drawing exhausted and weakened me to such an extent that I ended up in a sanatorium in County Dublin where I was ordered to rest and recuperate while the scars on my lungs healed up.
"And no more drawing!" said the Doctor.

After I recovered I was sent by my mother to stay with relatives in County Clare, away from the hustle and bustle of Dublin. There, beside turf fires that seemed to have burned from time immemorial, I heard different voices telling those same stories of the Tuatha De Danann and their exploits that I had listened to in my cradle. When I look back on those early years it seems that a chorus of voices from both past and present dictated the direction of my life and made inevitable the dedication of my art to the perpetuation of a tradition stretching back to the farthest reaches of antiquity.

Many years later I found myself still obsessed with those ancient tales. This time I resolved to research them in a more methodical and deliberate way and, while doing so, to attempt to establish an artistic base for myself from which I could explore the myths through my own painting, drawing and writing. To this end I left my highly paid job in advertising and started to produce a series of posters and prints for sale in Dublin and London. They were not entirely successful, but neither were they failures; they pointed me along my chosen path.

Page 1 - Page 2- The Vision


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