Category: Writing
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There Are No Fixed Stars – Day Thirty – Presence
The chimney stackWith clouds for smoke,And sun for fire,Has much to give;Imagine this sceneWithout it. By Emma Hynes This image and story are part of a project I have devised called There Are No Fixed Stars, my creative response to living with COVID-19 restrictions. On 22 October 2020, Ireland’s highest level of protective measures was invoked nationwide for…
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There Are No Fixed Stars – Day Twenty-Nine – Perception
What do you see when you encounter this image?Is there anything in it, or about it, that inspires action in you?If so, what?If not, what does it say to you instead? There can be no wrong answers. I will not convey my experience of it,As I feel it is a scene which holds much,And to…
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There Are No Fixed Stars – Day Twenty-Eight – Threshold
Imagine arriving at a gate to neither pass through it, or leave. To find yourself at its threshold, and remain. To feel that you cannot place a confident hand upon its frame, and push – without permission – without the knowledge of what awaits you on the other side – without needing either.Imagine arriving at…
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There Are No Fixed Stars – Day Twenty-Seven – Lifelines
There are lifelines to be foundIn the curve of an ebbing tide –In the field that undulates –At the newly drawn boundary;The reclamationOf a lost frontier. By Emma Hynes This image and story are part of a project I have devised called There Are No Fixed Stars, my creative response to living with COVID-19 restrictions. On 22 October…
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There Are No Fixed Stars – Day Twenty-Six – Intertidal
In the intertidal space,Nothing is as sureAs change;Nothing as certainAs tumult –Yet,There are those who reside there;In pools left behindBy the tide,Or in the depthsWhen it’s at its highest.I wonder if the sea anemoneRecoils at the oncoming;If the limpet and musselFlinch at the onslaught;If they feel the weight –The reliefWhen the flood recedes.No –For they…
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There Are No Fixed Stars – Day Twenty-Five – Horizon
Of one thing we can be certain – there is always a horizon;That place intangibleWhere the sun disappearsAnd rises;Where we too can disappearAnd rise to findYet another –It is never the same,And nor are we. By Emma Hynes This image and story are part of a project I have devised called There Are No Fixed Stars, my creative…
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There Are No Fixed Stars – Day Twenty-Four – The Oblivious Bird
The small bird knows not what the sight of it in flight can do for those who cannot leave the ground. It is not cognisant of the capacity of its own song to bring music in the moment. It is unaware of the awe invoked by its pattern and colour. It cannot conceive of its…
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There Are No Fixed Stars – Day Twenty-Three – All That Is Lost
This is the tree that spoke for itself. For which no words of mine were forthcoming when I photographed it five days ago, and came to respond with The Honest Writer.This is the tree that saw me assert that when a work of art has its own authentic and resounding voice, writing can only ever…
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There Are No Fixed Stars – Day Twenty-Two – Skylines
When you think of yourself in relation to the sky, what is it that comes to mind?For me, it holds the infinite.It is my reason to look up.It symbolises all that cannot be graspedBy either intellect, or hand,And is therefore the very definition of possibility.In this time of obstruction,I cannot experience flight in cloud;That moment…
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There Are No Fixed Stars – Day Twenty-One – Assurance
Were I to consider the functionality of this stone wall – its role as part of a railway bridge – what would I learn?Much concerning strength, I imagine; and the benefits of solid planning.But on this wet night in November, I find myself drawn to its latent traits –Its lit contours tell me that a…
Emma Hynes 