The call of the coast

...and little moments of creative clarity

There’s something about the Atlantic coastline here in Ireland. I can’t put my finger on what ‘it’ is, but I know it’s what brings me back each year.

As soon as our son finishes school for the summer, we usually pack up and head West. The five of us (canine family members included of course!), pack our belongings into the roofbox, usually far more than we actually need (but I would argue the changeable Irish weather actually makes it difficult to pack for a week…all bases need to be covered!), and set off.

Sometimes we stay in one place, other times we move around a little. This year we spent the full week on Achill Island. Not our first time, and most definitely not our last.

Dugort Beach on Achill Island, Ireland.

Crossing over at Achill Sound, a switch of sorts went off inside of me, and as we sat on Dugort Beach later that day, my shoulders dropped. My jaw started to unclench, and my heart calmed. We spent part of each day at a beach (there are 5 blue flag beaches on Achill, each as beautiful as the next). We drove the Atlantic Drive again, and travelled around the bending hillside roads, where our breaths gasped again as we stared down the rugged cliffs to the sea, and again, we were mesmerised by the beauty of Keem Bay. We flew a kite in the gusts, and watched the brightly coloured ribbon tail flutter and dance in the Atlantic air. We waited for sheep to let us pass on the road, and giggled at their expressions. We hopped over jellyfish on the sand, and huddled together on a rock to watch the waves crash. This time was much needed.

Possibly the best place to fly a kite!

One of the days in particular, while listening to the waves, I got lost in the rhythm of the sounds. For that moment, my racing heart and worried mind took a break. With each wave that rushed in, a calming stillness descended on me and my mind cleared. With the last year or so of various challenges and ongoing worries, this momentary stillness was most welcome. On our return to the cottage we were staying in, I opened my sketchbook and started to draw. No plan, no pressures, just sketching loosely and following the soft lines. I felt a pull to create, a space that was made which allowed me to flow, and I can only link it back to the ‘clearing’ that happened at the beach. The same thing happened each day that we were there, and I sketched a little each evening. Does calm and clarity (even in small doses) facilitate creativity? It’s not a new suggestion at all, I’d imagine, but I think I had underestimated the strength of the link between the two.

Sketchbook musings after time at the coast...

There have been days in recent times that I have felt my creativity stifled by anxiety. It’s never the case that I don’t want to, the longing is always there, but I can find it hard to begin. A block of sorts. Caught up in noise, and busyness of the mind. The lack of productivity (as my inner critic sees it), also leads to anxiety which in turn leads to… you see where this is going. It’s a difficult merry-go-round to get off. But those moments last week reminded me of the importance of moments of calm. The moments in between everything else. And perhaps, just moments, are enough. Enough to open that creative space within me again, where I can pour myself over words and drawings, and where things make sense to me. Here’s to more of those in-between moments hopefully, that open up everything else.

I wonder do you have somewhere you go that brings you calm? Somewhere you feel your shoulders drop, and your jaw unclench. I hope you do. Do you feel a link with creativity or clarity? I’d love to hear from you.

Towards the end of our time in Achill I took a video while walking along Dugort Beach as the sun began to set. I wanted to have it so that I could be catapulted back to that moment, if and when I need it. If like me, you feel calm at the coast, then I hope you might enjoy it too.

And finally, a little peak at some more of the sketches. I might do something with them, or they might just live in my sketchbook. Either way, they will remind me to focus back on the moments in between, for that is when I am really me.

Wishing you well,

Until next time,

Deborah x