In ol'Ire there is an old woman. Mostly in constant struggle against her neighbour Ängel and her old Ängeland. Lost one of heir eyes in the fight, though slowly its sight is slowly coming back. Her boys and lass has kept her spirit strong, several times been on the deathbed, but they have always been there to support her.
"Oh, what matter when for Erin dear we fall" - they sing, an neverending echo.

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Now, let see, I've gotten some notes about that some people don't understand some of my pictures. I mostly draw in some strange selfmade or existing symbolism. Like this old lady, her name is Erin, and for those who havn't got it Erin = Ire = Ireland and so on and so on. Now if you don't get something, throw a comment and I will answer. Since I can understand why people don't get everything.
Not all of us understand the meaning or the message some pictures want to give us. Which is a bit sad, so many artist just drawing and drawing and they just do it. Sure a picture might be wonderfully drawn, coloured so our eyes bleed in shear awsomeness, but... some of those pictures lack a meaning.
hm... this might sound a bit hard but I would rather say it then be silent.

//Cheers