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TOWARDS POTUAIRK
Far to the West, beyond a string of long-made Lochs you will find a ferry crossing. Whisper the spell of safe crossing and you will find yourself in a land that soars and roars with life. The tracks, first bigger then smaller, are winding, ever winding. They hold close to the shoreline, pulling you ever-onwards to the open sea. This is the way towards Portuairk, the place your great granny left but did not leave.
She would not have it that she or her kinfolk would ever leave that land so full of life and wildness that had raised her from her first breathes. Always it was woven into her words. It shone forth from her eyes, rose up from her feet and leapt from her tongue as she sung it to the four winds. Her dresses and shawls spoke of its' colours, changing with its' seasons, sometimes soft, sometimes coarse. Her heart was full of the stir of its' migrating birds and passing cloud moods. Her words were kindness itself.
Go child. Go far to the West.
Travel the way towards Portuairk. Walk slowly and drink fully along its miles. Find your great granny, let her whisper to you of wild knowings. Mind on to let her know that I sent you and that you, in turn, will send others...towards Portuairk.
Amber Connolly, Orkney
image size: 32 × 30 cm
framed size: 43 × 41 cm
TOWARDS POTUAIRK
Far to the West, beyond a string of long-made Lochs you will find a ferry crossing. Whisper the spell of safe crossing and you will find yourself in a land that soars and roars with life. The tracks, first bigger then smaller, are winding, ever winding. They hold close to the shoreline, pulling you ever-onwards to the open sea. This is the way towards Portuairk, the place your great granny left but did not leave.
She would not have it that she or her kinfolk would ever leave that land so full of life and wildness that had raised her from her first breathes. Always it was woven into her words. It shone forth from her eyes, rose up from her feet and leapt from her tongue as she sung it to the four winds. Her dresses and shawls spoke of its' colours, changing with its' seasons, sometimes soft, sometimes coarse. Her heart was full of the stir of its' migrating birds and passing cloud moods. Her words were kindness itself.
Go child. Go far to the West.
Travel the way towards Portuairk. Walk slowly and drink fully along its miles. Find your great granny, let her whisper to you of wild knowings. Mind on to let her know that I sent you and that you, in turn, will send others...towards Portuairk.
Amber Connolly, Orkney
image size: 32 × 30 cm
framed size: 43 × 41 cm
