Cliffs of Moher

How small, we all are, but still a part of it all.

I pieced this together from my time at the Cliffs of Moher. I am standing atop the cliffs in the distance at sunset. I featured O’Brien’s Tower, the highest point along the cliffs, and a Cinnabar moth caterpillar on the toxic flowering Ragwort plant. I’m cradling this Cinnabar caterpillar, overlaid on an image of Sea Mayweed overlooking the coast. Among these, I saw more than a landscape. I wandered along the cliffside, admiring the history and biodiversity. The image I created here is about how I experienced these cliffs, how I touched and interacted with them – not just what this view looked like, but how it felt. There are a series of complex relationships here.

The scene is vast and magnificent. My figure is very easily lost among it, but I interrupt this with the images of my hand, of flowers, reaching out and pulling you closer to remind us of the details all around us. Each of these elements reveals a history of the coast, of Irish folklore and tradition. They tell a story of belonging, finding meaning in the details, and building connection in the act of simply noticing. I composed this to demonstrate how identity can be layered, how fragments of ourselves can be gathered and shaped.

Even the rugged cliffs seem beautiful and soft. Each small moment – observing the tower, grounded and tall in silhouette, holding a caterpillar that becomes toxic itself after eating the Ragwort for defense, or recognizing the resilient daisy species that often grows along sand or pebbled beaches – reminds me that I am part of something bigger than myself. There is queer joy in finding moments of wonder, catching glimpses of the world around us, and knowing that we belong.

This photograph is a queer love letter to being present