Cobh Pottery

27/03/2026

Avril Daly at the Lavit Gallery was the first to welcome my work when I returned home to Cork over twenty years ago. In the years that followed, life unfolded in all its fullness, motherhood, family, and the beautiful unpredictability of it all.
I’m truly delighted to be part of this year’s members’ exhibition at the Lavit, and it was a joy to see so many stunning works come together, filling the walls with colour, texture, and story last night.❤️
Celtic Women: Kitchen dancing QueenThe local radio crackles to life, blasting an old favourite, and the dance begins, a slow, secret tapping on the kitchen worktop. Eternal dancing queen grins wide and wicked. Around her, pots, pans, cutlery and glassware glisten like glitter balls. She grabs a wooden spoon, raises it to her lips like a sacred microphone, and lets the music pour through her. As her bare feet skim the well worn tiles, something stirs deep within, a wild, laughing thing, long asleep. In the swirl of flour and low light dancing queen reconnects with herself, with the fierce, untamed Celtic spirit that once danced barefoot across stone fields and sang to the rising moon. The kettle hisses a harmony, the fridge hums a bass line, and the kitchen melts into a realm of rhythm and memory where time forgets to follow.
Celtic Women: Wildflower GardinerThe wildflower gardener tends her wild flower garden like a prayer. Each bloom, foxglove, bluebell, and daisy whispers secrets of ancient earth, echoing the stories of the women who went before her. Her hands, earth-stained, are instruments of creation, sowing chaos into beauty. She doesn’t plant for order but for her soul; for the bees and butterflies, the spirits, the unseen. Among the blossoms, time unravels, and the garden becomes wild grace, a living hymn to anyone who cares to see it.

05/03/2026

03/03/2026

Currently available from Fota House & Gardens
Celtic Women: Sea Swimmer: She wades into the cold, grey sea, waves lapping at her like ancient hands. The chill bites, but she welcomes it, an ancient Celtic instinct stirring in her blood. The wind is cutting, the sea wild. It tests her every time, but she does not flinch. Her strength is quiet, forged in grit and ritual. Ancestral spirit moves in her, ancient, unyielding. As the icy waves close around her, she swims with purpose, muscles burning, breath steady. This is not an escape, but a claiming. The cold, unforgiving sea calls to her, and she answers with the fierce will she witnesses in the generations of women who went before her. In its depths, she finds clarity, resilience, and a sacred kind of peace known only to those strong enough to embrace the water’s truth.❤️

01/03/2026

This Reader is lost in her thoughts at Fota House & Gardens ❤️
Celtic Women: The reader She is stillness in a storm. Amid the relentless rush of family, work deadlines, and life’s noise, she slips away, vanishing, not with rope or smoke, but into ink and fantasy. The book in her hands is no ordinary thing, it is a doorway, a geata draíochta, carved in quiet. In the familiar texture of pages and perfume of ink, she’s already submerged, wandering through familiar rituals, even before her eyes linger on the first words. The pages flutter like wings, whispering of other worlds. Around her, the world blurs, inside, a universe unfolds. Time stretches, bends, disappears. She's nowhere and everywhere, found in story and hidden, for now, from all expectations. Hidden from the world, yet more herself than ever, light fades, the day slips away unnoticed, she is bound to the domains between the pages. Only the dimming of the evening, blurring her spectacled vision, pulls her back from other universes. In escaping, she returns to herself and anchored there, until she is renewed and ready for the world again.

26/02/2026

One of my new pieces at Fota House & Gardens.
Celtic Woman: The Fox Watcher
Since childhood she has known they were there, moving at the edges of things, keeping to shadows and hedgerows, living their secret lives alongside her own. She catches a fleeting glimpse, a flash of russet slipping over a stone wall or crossing a field, gone again almost before she can breathe it in. But still, its beauty stops her still, flame bright fur against winter fields, bright eyes filled with anxious knowing. The old stories tell of the fox as a guide, a keeper of cunning and survival, a spirit that knows the hidden ways.
In those brief moments, the grace of the fox awakens the untamed parts of herself, instinct, solitude, and a knowing that has guided her path through life. She remembers that her own Celtic heart has always known the way home.
The fox speaks to her of what cannot be owned or tamed. In its spirit she sees resilience, freedom, and the courage to survive against the odds. She knows the dangers they live with, the sound of the hunt carried on the wind, the urgency in their flight, and she feels, deeply, that something so wild and beautiful deserves to endure.❤️

14/02/2026

My old and dear friend Ruby recently shared this with me. It’s a painting by my granduncle, William Sheehan, who was born and raised on Great William O’Brien street in Blackpool.
Not long ago, Ruby and I walked together through Blackpool, a part of the city that holds deep roots for my family. Generations before me, my parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents lived and worked along Great William O’Brien Street and the Commons Road, building small family businesses and lives filled with ambition for their children.
As a child, there were times that those streets were my whole world. I remember playing along the footpaths without worry, feeling held by a community that looked after it’s own. Like all places, time moves on, and the north side, like any part of a city, has known its changes. Some streets now carry a sense of wear, but for me they still hold a feeling of proud history.
Walking there, I can still feel the presence of what came before, the warmth, the resilience, and the quiet strength of the people who shaped those streets. The community may have shifted, but its spirit endures and I carry a deep gratitude for having been part of it.
https://crawfordartgallery.ie/wednesday-16-december-1922/

11/02/2026

Thank you so much . How lovely it is to know people like my work. I'm always so flattered. I'm so terrible with social media that I don't even have an instagram account to thank you directly, but my son has promised to send you the message. ⭐️❤️

22/01/2026

What a lovely surprise to be featured in Cork Craft and Design "meet the maker". ❤️

13/01/2026

The thickness of underglaze in comparison to the delicate lines of a pencil are always a challenge in ceramics. In 2026 I’ve decided to slow down and focus more on detail. The swimmer is my first dance with that intention. ❤️

29/11/2025

How lovely to be included in the Irish Examiner’s “shop local in Cork” guide. Thank you so much Rita de Brun. As always I’m beyond flattered.❤️

26/11/2025

As I paint the angel in the full-tilt run up to Christmas, it feels like she’s guiding my hand so her halo finally looks straight (ish). And with the Christmas music jingling away in the background she’s become my tiny celestial hype woman, keeping my brush steady. It’s as if she’s determined to find her own little way to bring someone joy, starting with me, one steady brushstroke at a time. Design & Crafts Council Ireland