Recently I visited an exhibition at the Glucksman Gallery, in the beautiful grounds of University College Cork. It was called Now Wakes the Sea.  Irish and international visual artists had taken on the sea as a theme in their work.  Striking, for me, was the highly charged romantic nature of almost all of the work on show, except for the piece by Tacita Dean. 

It's been more than two years since 'Drowning in Enough', a vision of the overwhelming sufficiency of grace in the midst of surrender, but it wasn't until after I wove 'Dark Hedges', when I went with some friends to go 'bouldering' in the sea, just a few miles north of that broken tunnel of yew in north County Antrim, that I tasted foamy saltwater, got caught in a current, pulled under, and couldn't catch my breath, that I realised what it really meant to drown.