Dandelion Land


The green that creeps from beneath is a steady process. Warming the eyes along with the flawless blue of the sky with its cotton wool clouds. Blue and green, that is spring for me. It is without saying a relief to welcome the colourisation of the country after the death of everything in winter.

I can’t say that I would like spring as much as I did if I didn’t dislike winter. When I was in Korea it was the dry and arid air, the biting cold winds, and the white bright sunlight pitching rays constantly. Winter in Korea is a time when snow storms were a relief from the constant squinting.

For my first winter in Ireland I expected the long days of wind and rain, a grey and lifeless landscape, and the damp that seems to find everywhere. But it was the darkness which caught me off guard. The sun setting at four o’clock in the afternoon swallowed the evening in absolute night, and leaving myself, Herself, and +1 staring at each other at home, expecting something to happen.

Much like Korea, Ireland’s winter swallows up all the visible life. But for the crows hovering overhead, perfectly silhouetted in any weather but more so in the overcast of December and January, little signs of life persist. Waiting for the world to awaken after winter follows a similar pattern in Ireland and Korea. Snowdrops show first, white exaggerated in the damp mud of flowerbeds. Then the shoots of daffodils break through the earth.

In Korea at this time of year you can’t take a step left or right without seeing a cherry blossom tree blooming. Even in the most sun deprived thoroughfare hectic with traffic, a much desiccated looking tree will be blooming as resplendently as its excessively pruned bows will allow. I’ve always thought it to be a bit over the top.

Yet a few weeks ago I was driving into Dublin’s city centre and at Cabra Cross, just by the McDonalds and Tesco the traffic stopped. This is one of Dublin’s less dynamic traffic spots, and it certainly is not an attractive part of the city – but let’s not be too harsh as there are worse place to be stuck in traffic. I looked out the window, and much like those very deprived looking cherry blossoms, at the base of a tree were some frail and gutter mud splattered daffodils, attempting to be as resplendent as their situation allowed.

 

Now the daffodils are slowly dying off, but the trees have gradually been warming our eyes as first the hedges and now the trees start to green with spring. It’s not long after this that the dandelions come out, yellowing in a peppered splay across any grassy patch. A sure sign the warm weather has returned is dandelion seeds tumbling carelessly in the breeze of a sun splashed afternoon.

We call these piss-in-the-beds because if you pick one you will wet the bed, or so we were told as children. But I wonder would the dandelion be as common if it weren’t for children blowing their seeds at every opportunity.

I wake up early most mornings to the new sound of spring, as thousands of different noises come through to my room. Birds singing, mostly, but the leaves rustling in an April gust comes frequently enough. There’s also the silence of morning, something I can’t remember from Korea. Where no noise from the street permeates the walls, and looking out the window all I can do is really imagine the sound.

More so than before I appreciate my new domain in Ireland. The garden, green, and all the other colours it presents, and the breeze and the birds, it’s a long way from my old position watching for glimpses of life on the twentieth floor in Suwon. They are two different places, and nowhere can either be compared. Ask me if I prefer one, I’d probably prefer to not answer that but I would say that I’m happy where I am for now. All I need now is for someone to cut the grass for me…

Moments I Forgot to Mention


For every second that passes I cannot chart the exact action followed through. There are a lot of seconds, and there are at least as many actions. Granted there are plenty of hesitations and thoughts about action. None of this amounts to much more than whatever it was that came about. Over the last few months its true that this has been the case as much as ever. Allow these images to be a sample of what might have happened in the past few months since my last confession.

(Did I mention I thought I lost my camera but then I found it, not in the last place I looked)

Howth Harbour evening

Tied and dried

View this post on Instagram

City lines

A post shared by Conor O'Reilly (@conzieshoots) on

corkwindow

ADHDoor cork

gaeityfeb15

graftonstreetfeb15 II

View this post on Instagram

Put your foot down

A post shared by Conor O'Reilly (@conzieshoots) on

City of Signs

I remember

View this post on Instagram

Moore Street ar maidin

A post shared by Conor O'Reilly (@conzieshoots) on

View this post on Instagram

Electric Entrance

A post shared by Conor O'Reilly (@conzieshoots) on

Gateway to the sky

Last evening stroll

*fin*

Monochrome Seoul


I don’t get into Seoul as much as I’d like to. Although recently I’ve been fortunate enough to hit up the tourist trails around Myeong-dong. I miss the big city. The feeling you get as you’re lost in a tidal wave of more people. I miss the main streets, and the side streets. I miss looking up from the cavern floor of a canyon of highrise. I miss getting lost in a world of alleys and emerging and finding my way around because it’s just Seoul.

Here are a few shots I took recently uploaded to an album on flickr. All shots were taken between April and May of 2014.

To view more of these grainy and shaky Seoul street shots please follow this link.

To view more of these grainy and shaky Seoul street shots please follow this link.

To view more of these grainy and shaky Seoul street shots please follow this link.

 

Photography © Conor O’Reilly 2014

 

 

In Chiang Mai


I am Chiang Mai, the largest city in northern Thailand, and I will be here until the end of February. If you’re looking for commentary and photography on life in the penninsula you’ve come to the wrong blog (at least until February).

We’re here to get away from the cold by wearing shorts and t-shirts, lounging by the pool, and enjoying hearty sized gin and tonics. Plenty of walking around and checking out what the city has to offer has been done, and more is sure to follow.

With +1 our night life immersion has been limited, but we’re managing regardless. Plenty of markets, restaurants, coffee, and of course far glorious hot weather (did I mention we have a pool?).

Here are a few of photos I’ve taken over the past two weeks. More to come of course.

To view these photographs and more follow this link to my flickr page

To view these photographs and more follow this link to my flickr page

To view these photographs and more follow this link to my flickr page

To view these photographs and more follow this link to my flickr page

Gangneung Bus Station


_DSC0268

What this place is is a blur. A moment of passing. Transit. From there to here or from somewhere else to another place. All that is left is the grey area, a space with less colour than grey, as distinct as the indviduality in a large packet of A4 paper. Where is there when the moments worth remembering are elsewhere? But I am here and there is this other place which I should be in and it may be where I am going – perhaps with the sun shining and flowers and colours and other weather and familiar faces and absolutely no apprehension – there is no longer part of me until the next time I see it.

Take this bus station. A point of arrival and departure that never moves but just sits here swallowing up and spitting out people moving between to positions. It’s only function is to sit in the town at a crossroads. People sitting around, waiting with boxes and bags and nervous looks on their faces. Huddled in front of heaters with collars pulled high against their chins, waiting in silence for their bus too be called. Everyone is looking at everyone, and not at their shoes like they usually do. Nervous and out of place, no one belongs in a bus station. Everything that is here is designed to convenience transit away from and to this place; restaurants, shops, cafes, seats, clocks, doors, steps, lights, everything. You could say that nothing belongs here, but I do, at this moment moving from there to here or wherever in my journey I am, looking at my feet hoping nobody sees me too clearly.

_DSC0270

_DSC0274

_DSC0277

_DSC0280

_DSC0284

_DSC0286

_DSC0288

_DSC0290

_DSC0294

_DSC0295

o be in this place is to be dislocted. To be abandoned to a schedule. To be out of place. To be a number in a queue, waiting as the seconds tick away. And then you’re gone and any memory you have of the place is a mystery why it’s a memory.

_DSC0302

Words and images © Conor O’Reilly 2013