Mary floats from space to space while confined to the porch of her family home during Lockdown. Mary declares ‘I WAS HERE’. Mary shrinks and expands as she bumps up against the corners of her reality. A feverish and compassionate expression of ARTIST/      female /       g-i-r-l/      woman/      ^writer,    Mary has all the feelings.

Alone and in the porch, pouring over her painting practice while navigating the politics of space, Mary comes to the startling realisation that she is Mother Éire. A confabulation of life, she is a fecundity of existence.

Her fierce voice scrambles and scratches to be heard. She exists as a complex personhood, in many, many forms. Mary echoes as a sound work that ricochets and floats lightly around the white walls of a gallery space. Mary is the squiggle of a line that moves from one point to another within the frame.

Mary likes to reach up high and graze her fingertips off the ceiling. Mary likes to spread her legs and envelop every feeling – Mary is here  to  stretch  every  curve  on  her  b a c k.

If she did not exist the world would keep on spinning, but she does.

A bildungsroman a couple of years too late, a homecoming, when she’s never left home, a Künstlerroman in denial, a neurosis; ‘W/ ’ is a multi-dimensional, quasi-novella work of auto-fiction that spins out into the space of the world.