What Do You Do? 2017 – 2018

Extracts from a year in the life of a Creative Entomologist.

In 2017 I made probably the most difficult decision of my life to date, if indeed it really was a decision when it came down to it. Having salvaged one of my longest-standing, most beautiful friendships from the rubble, it feels…hmm…not as though anything is possible, but that something worthwhile is always possible.

I received an important piece of wisdom at the time: Sometimes there is no good or bad decision, there is only the one that you make. The first time I volunteered in Madagascar, I learnt something similar. You commit to that spot on the far side of the river and you leap. That’s how you move through the forest.

After that cryptic introduction, let me tell you about some of the work-related leaps I made in 2017, and how they will shape the coming year of Creative Entomology for better or for worse.


Next week I’m returning to my favourite village in Madagascar to carry out the Wild Postcard Project with SEED Madagascar! I’ll spend four weeks there, running an art competition to produce Sainte-Luce-wildlife-themed postcards for the charity to sell to support their valuable work in the area. There will of course be a special insects/invertebrates category! I’m eager to work out how many postcards I should print – please contact me on Facebook if you would like to register your interest in buying a pack or donate towards the costs of art materials, prizes and printing.

Club A Butterfly
Club Atsatsaky with butterflies for Sainte Luce’s World Environment Day festival 2011

Upon my return in mid-February, I will be available to lead bug workshops and nature outings for a primary school near you (if you live in the greater Dublin area), subsidised by the Heritage Council! That’s because I’ve been chosen for the Heritage in Schools panel 2018 – 2020!

It’s appropriate that I’m returning to Madagascar with my artist’s hat on, because 2017 was the year I really got my art buzz back, on the inspirational Bee Time residency at Emerson College. It opened my eyes to our complicated relationship with the honey bee and the importance of creating art with the communities in which we live. I made a bee line for the Bee Time HQ in Spain later in the year, visiting the land which the beetimers are healing for the bees, and becoming pleasantly embroiled in some plotting to bring a Bee Time residency to Ireland…

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Insect walk for the Bee Time exhibition at Emerson College, East Sussex

Last year I also applied for a pollinator art commission from Laois and Offaly County Councils. Didn’t get it. Made the art anyway. My video collaboration with the public in Laois and Dublin, More than Bees: Lesser Known Tips for Pollinator Conservation, was screened in Dunamaise Arts Centre during Heritage Week, thanks to the Laois Heritage Officer Catherine Casey. I also made some lovely beekeeper friends!

2017 saw the launch of my first solo exhibition, BUGONIA, built around the prints, paintings, and sound pieces I created in those two fruitful weeks at Bee Time, and hosted by Bí URBAN in Stoneybatter. What a calm yet thought-provoking space Kaethe Burt O’Dea has created! I’m excited to get involved in her Lifeline Project in 2018. The aim is “to create a flow of biodiversity from the Botanic Gardens to the Liffey as a living laboratory where the citizens of Dublin’s Northwest Inner city can map and measure the value of re-partnering with nature in the urban environment.”

In conjunction with the exhibition, and for Remembrance Day for Lost Species, I held a pollinator video workshop and a poetry and music evening at St. Michan’s Church, generously supported by Phibsboro Tidy Towns and Church of Ireland. A poetry competition and open call for musicians for the pollinator event led to many interesting international connections with insect poets and bug festival organisers! Opportunities are sticking to me like flies to fly paper! Which reminds me of another piece of wisdom I’ve been keeping close at hand this past year:

The amount of serendipity that will occur in your life, your Luck Surface Area, is directly proportional to the degree to which you do something you’re passionate about combined with the total number of people to whom this is effectively communicated.

Jason C. Roberts

My volunteer role as intercultural workshops coordinator with Discovery Gospel Choir brought me to Hatch Hall direct provision centre. I effectively communicated what I’m passionate about to the centre’s management and I was invited to run two chaotic creative entomology workshops with some amazing children. We created a “music video” for the song Inchworm, which featured Geometrid moths and their loopy caterpillars!

Geometrid Moths and Inchworms
Some colourful fun for kids stuck in the mind-numbing system of direct provision

My most unusual work location this year was probably at the side of a road in Terenure. My Dublin Canvas painting of Staphylinus dimidiaticornis, a rove beetle of wet grasslands and fens, has been popular with the Instagrammers of South Dublin, where I continue to carry out insect surveys for the County Council’s Heritage Officer, Rosaleen Dwyer.

I published a short note (my first!) with my entomological hero Roy Anderson and Laila Higgins in the Irish Naturalists’ Journal, about a ground beetle we found along the Dodder: The status of Trechus subnotatus (Dejean) (Coleoptera: Carabidae) in Ireland, with a new site in the Dublin area.

Grasshopper grange road
Catchin’ grasshoppers with my wonderful intern-for-the-day Tyler. Want to volunteer in 2018?

I look back at the post I wrote about my fibromyalgia in 2016 and wonder how I’ve managed to hurtle through so many bizarre and exciting projects and experiences in the last year, under a job title I invented for myself, during a really difficult period of personal change, without collapsing. Two things were key to this being possible:

  1. I learnt to ask for help. And friends, family, choir mates and people who had never met me before gave it in abundance. The term ‘sole trader’ is misleading – it takes a village to raise a business!
  2. I learnt to embrace anger as a powerful force for change, put it into physical action, and it freed up so much energy. Anger, like pain, is just a feeling telling you that something needs to change. Listen to it.

Let the raging fire in your belly propel you forward in 2018. Put on some red boots. Practice saying “yes” and “no” and “help!” in a loud, clear voice. Kick through your inhibitions and frustrations. Imagine yourself standing in your favourite habitat, in peak bug-spotting form. Leap over that river and march right up to what makes you happy. You will find something very worthwhile there.

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Hope Blooms at the Central Mental Hospital

The hyacinth first bloomed from the blood of Hyakinthos, a divine hero struck dead by the jealous West Wind. The crocus flower opens its petals to the first sun of springtime, a reminder to open our hearts to the goodness of all that surrounds us, to “discovery beauty in everyone”. Discovery Gospel Choir were greeted by these natural symbols, of hope in the face of tragedy and of open-hearted acceptance, as we entered the Central Mental Hospital in Dundrum for an extraordinarily moving concert.

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I want to tell you that the grounds of the Central Mental Hospital are beautiful at this time of year. That there are swathes of spring flowers breathing a gasp of colour and surprise all amongst the tall, inspiring trees. I want to tell you that they have donkeys, chickens, rescue dogs and bee hives now, for the patients to care for and to care for the patients.

I’m dying to tell you, stumbling over my sentences with excitement, every detail of the most joyful and meaningful concert I have ever sung with Discovery Gospel Choir! And how I’ve never felt as connected with and as appreciated by an audience as I did with the patients of the Central Mental Hospital for the criminally insane (and we get some truly awesome audiences).

Yet I have held back and hesitated to publish this blog post, because not everyone had the privilege of being there, so not everyone will understand. I expect people might put up high walls in their minds when I tell them, maybe even respond with disgust or anger. Because (and this startled me too) many of the forty or so people in our chapel audience had killed someone, in many cases even a member of their own family. They had been found not guilty of murder by reason of insanity, so they were sent here instead of to prison. But the media vilifies and mocks those who suffer from mental illnesses, so those who lack awareness fear them even after their medication has healed them.

Take schizophrenia as an example of one such illness during which a person can act without understanding the reality of their actions. The rare story of a young man wielding an axe sells more newspapers than the one cowering in his bedroom afraid for his own life. The bizarre tale of the person who kills someone they believe to be Satan gets more clicks online than the local “mad woman” wandering the streets and harmlessly and humorously (if it wasn’t so sad) telling strangers about her chats with God on the phone.

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From everything I have heard and read the two non-violent examples above appear to be much more likely manifestations of schizophrenia for the roughly 1% of the population in Ireland who will suffer from this awful illness. One percent of our documented population amounts to roughly 45,950 people. There are roughly 100 patients in the Central Mental Hospital, the only forensic psychiatric unit in Ireland. I’m not a doctor or a statistician, but do the maths and break down that stigma.

Psychosis (an umbrella term which mainly covers hallucinations, delusions and disorganised thinking, which can be tormenting and terrifying for the person who has it) is the primary symptom of schizophrenia and features in a number of other illnesses. It’s also something you can experience once off. It is estimated that 8% of the population at any given time have had psychotic experiences. It’s the luck of the draw what you or your loved one might hallucinate about if they have the misfortune to be struck by this illness.

That’s all that has brought these patients here – illness, and an unfortunate set of circumstances, which could strike anyone at any time in this society where mental health is so often an afterthought, a regret. Can you imagine recovering from a serious illness to discover that you have killed someone you love dearly? It seems like the cruellest sentence. Your life and the lives of your family and your victim’s family are changed beyond recognition forever.

We met a member of staff whose dedication to these patients goes far beyond his remit. While also lamenting the lack of supportive resources for victims’ families, he blames these tragedies on the lack of availability of mental health services in the outside world, and I agree. If the public were equipped to recognise the signs, look past the stigma, and seek and receive help as soon as it is needed, many of these cases could have been prevented, not to mention the suffering of thousands others who go under the public radar.

 

We heard from our hosts that the Central Mental Hospital used to be more prison-like. When you hear “high security psychiatric unit” you think Hannibal Lecter. It’s an image that strikes fear into people’s hearts, and the beings encased in hard layers of security become dehumanised. The grey stone buildings date back to 1850. The 18 foot high outer walls tower above the suburbs which have grown up around it.

Nowadays, there is much more of an effort towards rehabilitation. There is more of an atmosphere of hope and healing, at least around the flower beds and in the beautiful old chapel where we sang. The patients have something to talk about other than their past, and they sell their own brand of honey: Patient Bee. Outside of these walls, Ireland needs to reform its attitude to mental health to prevent others from ending up here. We can no longer brush this problem under the carpet like so many others.

Lifting the roof of the hospital chapel with four-part harmonies, songs gathered from around the world, was a mere drop of compassion in the ocean of troubles this country needs to face right now. But, for the gentle-spoken migrant patient in the front row who recognised and sang along to a song in his native language, for the smiling toothless man who danced like he was at a rave, and for all of us who clapped and danced and sang and opened our hearts and minds in joyful connection, it was a storm surge.

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Master bee keeper Liam McGarry at the Central Mental Hospital (Photo: Cyril Byrne, Irish Times)