by helenmcnulty | May 21, 2021 | Painting, Self Portaits, Writing
Pomme, Self Portrait, Oil on Board, 75 x 75cm 2010 The Black Hat Empyrean Heights lay underneath his black felt hat, hiding deceptive black eyes. Lucifer was once an angel and if he were a real thing, he’d stride through cobble streets just like yer one, playing music...
by helenmcnulty | May 14, 2021 | Painting, writing about being a mother
Venus Sleeping | 2020 | Watercolour on Paper | 10 x 14cm — – Bushwhacking. —— —— 1/ Even the bracken / bricks it / in this bog. / / Tiny tufts of flax / Bow down the road / Plaques blaze the old names of townlands / Like gravestones. / / Do you remember /...
by helenmcnulty | May 8, 2021 | Drawings, Notebooks, Painting, writing about family
Kitchen Windowsill | April 2020 | Acrylic and Gouache on Paper | 10 x...
by helenmcnulty | May 4, 2021 | Audio Recording, Children's Books, Irish Love Songs, Poetry, Rhymes, Songs, Stories for Children
Dusty Bluebells or I am the Master (traditional playground song) by Helen McNulty from Helen McNulty on Vimeo.The Dusty Bluebells or I am the Master is Children's Playground song, sung widely in Ulster/ Northern Ireland. The words in this version are from the book by...
by helenmcnulty | Apr 30, 2021 | Painting, Writing
A week before Easter is a fitting time for a religious catastrophe. On Monday night the 15th April in the year of our lord 2019, Our Lady, Notre Dame ignited into flame shortly before 7pm in the evening. The epicentre was the roof of the cathedral. The fire was...
by helenmcnulty | Apr 30, 2021 | Painting, Writing
City Faeries, Oil on Canvas, 100cm x 100cm, 2003 Architect, Floppy Disk, Temple Bar Cobbles shone, little tiny bottle caps embedded themselves into the putty cracks between the stones and boy did they glisten among the fag ends, bits of yellow polysterene and pigeon...
by helenmcnulty | Apr 23, 2021 | Painting, Writing
Over the road there are women, sewing, visible through the open door. It is lunch time, they are still working. Yesterday when I peeped over on the hot afternoon, they were in there with the door closed, windows boarded up, but I could hear the drilling of the presser...
by helenmcnulty | Apr 16, 2021 | Notebooks, Painting, Writing, Writing About Northern Ireland, Writing about the nature
Drumskinny (from Irish Droim Scine, meaning ‘ridge of the knife/edge’) I I went down to the river where my phone repeatedly beeped in my pocket: ‘Welcome to the United Kingdom”. Another message, on the other side of Europe, saying that I was...
by helenmcnulty | Apr 16, 2021 | Audio Books, Audio Recording, Photography, Poetry, Writing
Helen McNulty · Oh to be compost by helen...
by helenmcnulty | Apr 6, 2021 | Audio Recording, Rhymes, Songs
Helen McNulty · The Weaving Song From Bagpuss Lyrics of The Weaving Song The Weaving Song. I’m a weaver, a master weaver,I’ve got a loom where the best cloth’s made.Plain cloth, twill, brocade or satin,I’m the master of my trade.Shed the warp and swing the...
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