The Everyday and the Unfamiliar

It snowed here yesterday! I woke up in the morning thinking there had been a hard frost but was proven wrong when I stepped outside. Even the sheep look cold. These woolly creatures graze in the pastures surrounding my cottage. That's not it in the background, by the way, but mine is very similar.

What with all the cold and damp and traveling and hard work I have a cold. This is no great worry really. But it points out a few things that I take for granted back home. Cough medicine, for example.

Before the other day this product was completely unfamiliar to me. Then again there wasn't a bottle of anything familiar in the local market. It doesn't help that the labels are in English and that you can read the list of ingredients. You still don't know what to buy. So I asked the girl behind the counter for a recommendation. This is one of the "most popular" choices she said. Wow! I can see why. It's like swallowing fire. Anything tight in your chest is instantly opened. And all sore throat pain is dispelled because you can't feel anything there anymore.

I love it here, and I miss the comforts of home. I miss my warm dry house and my long hot showers. I very much miss my washer and drier. The other night was laundry night. Three years ago when I was here my clothes turned mysterious colors. Well, it has happened again. My long underwear, once white, are now blue. And here's why, the water is GREEN. Not just a little but very much so.

I like having a hot bath at the end of the day but I may come home some shade of Leprechaun. Needless to say, I have acquired filtered water from Kirsten, my incredibly generous colleague, for use in the electric kettle and general consumption.

The kettle, by the way, is a gentile fixture in daily life. One drinks tea or coffee with breakfast, then during break at eleven, and finally for lunch at two. You might have one later in the afternoon too. That thing is always on. This is fantastic! Always a hot steamy beverage in your hand.

It's a perplexing balance of hardship and niceties.

First Day in Kilcar

This was the view on my walk to work this morning. It was a very short walk, just a few hundred yards, before it started to rain. Then I was graciously offered a ride into the mill by one of the many friendly locals.

We are just getting back from Showcase Ireland in Dublin. There is much scurrying about unpacking the van, replacing samples, and organizing the orders. Even with that the pace is much slower here than in the city.

Studio Donegal, where I will be working for the next three weeks, is located in the small rural village of Kilcar in County Donegal. The landscape is inescapable. One is surrounded by the fields, and rocks, and ocean, and sky in such an intimate way. This is not a region of grand vistas but of close framed points of view. The clouds limit visibility. The town is nestled down by the water with the hills all around.

It is easy to say that the textiles are inspired by the landscape. That piece of marketing isn't new. You honestly feel it here though. Nothing is just one color. All things natural and man made have a weathered worn-in quality. They have been beaten up and mixed together. The edges aren't necessarily rounded but the minerals have leached out and reacted with each other.

I am excited to be here and to have the opportunity to design using these traditional materials. In the woolen industry as in a great many others there is a balance to be struck between maintaining a connection with history and responding to the demands of the modern world.