B L O G
Thoughts, rants, and selected writing from Mike Ryan.
2022 – A Retrospective
I’m going to be stepping back from Social Media this month (and hopefully beyond) so that I can focus on my creative work. But before I go I wanted to leave a few self-indulgent posts about the past year, where I am right now, and what I’m hoping to achieve over the next few years…
HEEL/TURN – Work In Progress showing at the Everyman Theatre Cork
This past October I was thrilled to be one of four Cork-based artists selected to show an excerpt from my new theatre project “HEEL/TURN” at The Everyman, Cork as part of PopUp. “HEEL/TURN” is a metatheatrical, interdisciplinary piece that I’ve been developing with my frequent collaborator (and occasional sworn enemy) RedMask. It uses music, video,…
When Talent Comes Out In The Wash
First published in UCC’s annual magazine ‘Independent Thinking’ in 2016, which can be read in its original format here: Cónal Creedon Interview, Original. Cork novelist, playwright and documentary maker Cónal Creedon, has been appointed as UCC/Arts Council Writer in Residence at UCC for the current academic year. He tells Mike Ryan about what has inspired his career…
Illusory Profit Margins – A Poem About Ghosts and Capitalism.
A Premium HauntingDan and Mary bought a haunted house.Not really haunted, just haunted enough.Enough that they could make some easy cashby opening a haunted B&B.They cleared out the Victorian pantry,and gutted the eerie children’s play room.They rigged the place with automated ghosts,and upped their nightly rate 90%.Dan accidentally hung himself while hanging spooky lights.Now Mary…
Obituary Generator
I’ve started writing obituaries for fun in my spare time.It’s almost Halloween in this, the year of the ongoing difficulty. Does the above statement really shock you?I’ve become a little bit obsessed with their form and language. How do you even begin to conceive a form aimed at summing up somebody’s life, let alone do…
Time Immomentum
Despite being busier than I’ve ever been creatively, I recently realised that I haven’t had a completed piece of work staged in almost 3 years. It’s somewhat cathartic to admit that rather than ignore it as I have been, but I’m still worried. At what point do I stop being allowed to refer to myself…
ferocious composure 