ORIGINS EILE

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ORIGINS EILE

Art ● Talks ● Workshops 

 

We aim to feature & support Irish people of colour.

AJ Awak-Essien
AJ Awak-Essien
Ana Lucia Mondoloni
Ana Lucia Mondoloni
Avi Mae Shaw
Avi Mae Shaw

DIVINATION FROM A ONEIROMANCER

 

The future. Who could say, with certainty, what it holds. After all, she is such an arbitrary mystery, shaping herself to be unique to not only each planet, each burning star, but also to each inhabitant on earth- breathing or deceased. If you’re lucky enough to be in tune with the universe and the flow of fate, you may be able to dig up a few nuggets of what they have in store for a person, but only the future knows what she is.

​

That being said, I’m willing to cast a few bets on what awaits. 

​

The future… what I see when I close my eyes and ask my dreams for what it will look like in a decade or so from now, I see crowds of black fists in the air, restless and bubbling for the justice they’ve been denied time and time again. Millions united, so tired of letting the years go by without an answer. Warriors battle-scarred, having crawled, not unscathed, out of a time of pestilence and unrest. A generation who have seen cruelty rule over them, seen just how detrimental to a human life corruption and hard headedness can be. In ten years’ time, that battle should be coming to its climax. The end of the chapter that will be written into history books by the ones they were fighting for. 

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And the ones studying the history books, you may ask me? What lies beyond 10 fleeting years? What will be there when you and I have long stepped our final foot-fall? When ‘2010’ sounds just as distant as ‘1810’? What will the generation centuries into the future be facing? Will they be basking in the glow of a wonderful utopia, the evils of capitalism long gone, with a political system that functions finally in place? The only mentions of ‘the poor’ and ‘the 1 percent’ from cautionary tales of the past? 

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Or will this all have been for nothing? 

​

And that’s the question I’m not too willing to cast any bets on, I’m afraid. But I’ll give you my two cents.

I think that whether or not there is life to inhabit it, the earth will spin on ‘til the sun decides to die and take everything else with her. The only thing you can predict is how you put one foot in front the other until it’s time to stop your walk. 

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Take any and every path you can. If yours is a quiet stroll, where you take stops to soak in where you are, if you linger on each new step, much more for deciding to change your direction, if you stomp and march and sprint and move with fire so long as it is the righteous path you storm down, walk well, and walk.  

Because that’s the only thing sure for every second that will come forward. 

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That we will walk. We will run. 

 

We will move.

 

AVI-MAE SHAW

Cami
Cami
Cami
Cami
Clodagh Boyce
Clodagh Boyce
Egoano Nwike
Egoano Nwike
Fatima Abdurahman
Fatima Abdurahman
Josephine Akande
Josephine Akande

“family... friends... faith provide little comfort to me when I find myself asking; What do I do with this part of myself?

This identity 

that I have yet to claim. ”

 

Josephine Akande

Josephine Akande
Josephine Akande
Natasha Ruwona
Natasha Ruwona
Natasha Ruwona
Natasha Ruwona
Orla O’Boyle
Orla O’Boyle
Orla O’Boyle
Orla O’Boyle
Orla O’Boyle
Orla O’Boyle
Osaro
Osaro
Osaro
Osaro
Palesa Mou
Palesa Mou
Pima
Pima
Pima
Pima
Pima
Pima
Pima
Pima
Tiberius Osagie
Tiberius Osagie
Tiberius Osagie
Tiberius Osagie
Tiberius Osagie
Tiberius Osagie
W. K
W. K

My Cup Runneth Over

 

The gaps in my identity 

 No longer colonised

 With the art that despises me

 

 We are loved and cared for

 Protected but for real this time

 

 Our humanity is art

 Our art is gold

 Sealing the cracks in each others' cups

 Tea made of exposed tree roots

 

 But they refused to cover them

 Leaves plucked, bark skinned

 We were nothing more than resources

 Vilified and hated

 

 We no longer have to prove our worth to   anyone. 

 Least of all, corporations that only cared about us once a year. 

 These hierarchies that have continued to fail us. 

 Time and time again, betrayed.

 Nothing left but us, our compassion... love. 

 

 I am plucking fruits from our garden.

 Persimmon, soursop, and pomegranate

 I cut them and tenderly place them in your hands

 I am beaming because we made it

 Our cups are overflowing.

Viola Gayvis
Viola Gayvis
51865955_533426987060789_434713401172688

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