My Creativity Archived

The past two and a half months has seen many ripples pivoting around my creative life. I have tried over the past few weeks to put the sequence of ripples into a blog post looking how my ‘creativity has been archived’.

It kind of started with Brendan O’Connor reading my letter on his radio show in mid July. It was like throwing a proverbial peddle into the sea. Since then I had various art and book reviews in newspapers, ‘In bed I cut words’ book made the shortlist for the CAP Awards, my previous work was shows in an online ME exhibition and I officially handed over my creative archive to Réalta Arts + Health Library in Waterford.

In the midst of it all I moved to another Care Centre.

See below for the story with links to further reading, if you so wish.  Thank you all again, as ever, to be part of this journey.

Photo taken after the handover of my creative archive 
at the Centre of Arts and Health, Waterford

The first pebble:

12 July: Brendan O’Connor -  RTE Radio 

In June I wrote to Brendan O’Connor in response to his newspaper column in the Sunday Independent ‘For poor Grace, there’s really no Place like home’ (20 April 2025) 

Brendan had wondered about the use of the word ‘placement’. ‘Would Grace not deserve a Home?’ His wording was brilliant, as always. 

I glued the article in my notebook and months later I wrote a letter, by hand, while in bed about ‘home’ and ‘care’ in response to his extraordinary column and posted it to the newspaper. I don’t read back, I don’t edit. 

Not long after I received this extraordinary email back from Brendan. Long story short, he asked permission to read my letter on his radio show. He did, on Saturday 12 July 2025. RTE titled the podcast: My name is Corina. I want to go home. Listen back on RTE Radio 

Brendan started with his own thoughts about the letter, but also with clear information about ME. Thank you!

The responses have been extraordinary. I received so many emails, messages, WhatsApp, messenger, Instagram messages, from friends, previous readers of my books, complete strangers, from ME advocates in Ireland, UK, America, personal comments from staff, residents and their family members.  What can I say. Other than Thank you for hearing me. For telling me your story. 

The Ripples: 

A few days after my letter was read on radio I had a meeting in my room at the nursing home with the Director of another Care Centre which has more people under the age of 65 with neurological illnesses. This meeting was organised by my Disability Case Manager (not related to the letter). It became one of the unexpected coincidental ripples. Tidal wave, almost.

22 July Book Review by Liam Murphy, Munster Express: In bed I cut Words

A week later my PA, my brother and I visited the Care Centre. It felt right. 

The same day a review was published by Liam Murphy in the Munster Express about my book. Another ripple. Two ripples! 

See below for transcript, or Facebook

Liam Murphy - Munster Express

28 July: Home

Shortly after the visit I trusted that the ‘Universe had Aligned’ and I took a massive leap of faith to be transferred to Mooncoin Residential Care Centre. I have again, a beautiful room. This time with view over the mountains which resembles the view I had at my home in Lismore.  It is peaceful and caring. A place for the next part of this challenging journey with my ME body. Home at sorts. More about this another day…

14 August: Little Wings Creative Archive Handover celebration 

I was invited for the official handover of my “Little Wings” creative archive at Réalta/Waterford Healing Arts. Again, this was already in the planning, but it kind of felt right it came on this current wave of ripples.

It was a beautiful gathering with Réalta staff and creative friends, some via video link. It was also very emotional. There is it: more than 30 years of my work in images, newspaper clipping, prints, books, videos… even a diary of the process which became the Invisible Octopus series. A beautiful display, a heartfelt event. To be honest, there were many tears, and not just mine… But I am also very proud. 

Creative supports

“I don’t want to rip the skies wide open, I just want my song to be heard” 

 Corina Duyn (From lyrics by Kris Delmhorst)

Watching the Fit to Fly documentary.
A glimpse back to 2005!
(If viewing on YouTube- there are 2 parts)

Abstract from Realta website:  

“… In addition to her boundless creativity, Corina’s attention to detail and her clarity of thought is evident in how meticulously she has recorded her process and catalogued her work.  Her generosity and bravery in sharing her innermost thoughts and her methodology are no surprise to us and to anyone who knows Corina, but will surely be a revelation to anyone who is yet to discover this extraordinary artist.   

Most of Corina’s work reflects her own life and living with ME but, despite decades of challenging health, it is clear from “Little Wings” that she has never lost her belief in the power of art to lift, to sustain and to transform lives.

…[the archive] is open to any artist, healthcare professional or arts + health practitioner. To book your place, please email info@realta.ie indicating your preferred date and time. Open Monday-Thursday 9am-5pm and Friday 9am-1pm.”

See also Arts + Health Instagram, LinkedIn, Facebook.

Online creatives support

15 August: CAP AWARDS shortlist

At the handover we obviously also spoke about ‘In bed I cut words’ and how to proceed next, only to hear the day after that it had made the shortlist in the Carousel Aware Prize for Independently Published Authors (The CAP for Indies) under anthologies.

Of course this book came about due to a beautiful collaboration with so many, see Book Page.

“…The CAP Awards are committed to acknowledging and promoting excellence in Irish independent book publishing, and are also a reader’s guarantee of quality; offering them fresh, new voices from independent authors combined with professional, high-level standards of publishing.”

The winners will be announced at The Carousel Awards for Irish Independent Authors in Chapters Book Store in Dublin on the evening of the 10th of October 2025. 

If you can please attend this celebration - for me… For details and access information please contact info@capawards.ie 

29 August: Dungarvan Leader: “Artist And Writer Corina Duyn Recognised For Latest Book”
Journalist Jo Bell wrote a full page article about the short list of the book in the Dungarvan Leader  Including interviews with David Murphy from Red Heaven Design  who created this book of beauty and Katherine Collins from Creative Waterford who funded and organised the reprint in paperback. 

  

A small amount of copies are available from myself . Further Availability of the book will be announced after the award event.

31 August: Sunday Independent, Culture & People supplement. ‘What lies beneath’ art column by Niall MacMonagle: “A fearless artistic voice refusing to be silenced”

One of the first collages I ever made, probably April 2022, I used the Niall MacMonagle’s art column title: What lies beneath. Three years later, he wrote a short history of my long creative life in his art column. What a lovely ripple…

"My creative brain will not be silenced," she says. Her epigraph to In Bed I Cut Words reads: "In bed I cut words until I can rest in a world where loss and pain live alongside beauty and hope."

See newspaper link for full article, or at bottom of this blog.

Huge Ripples for anyone with ME in Ireland, possibly even abroad:

With the involvement of my fellow ME Advocates our national health service in Ireland, the HSE, has shared the ME clinical guidelines project on their website! A massive moment.

“The guideline will be informed by international evidence, models of ME care, clinical experts, and people with lived experience of ME.”

Thank you, thank you, ALL involved to make this happen.

LET ART BE A WAY TO WITNESS AND REMEMEBER.  

Moira Dillon from ME Advocates Ireland (MEAI) created the second online exhibition with works by people living with ME. This time on 8th August - Severe ME Day. The exhibition shared the art created by 31 artist with severe ME from all over the world: LET ART BE A WAY TO WITNESS AND REMEMBER.  

An extraordinary document. 

Jo Bell highlighted in a full page article in the Dungarvan Leader 19 September. “Raising awareness of severe ME - Lismore artist and writer Corina Duyn participates in online exhibition”

From the article:

Moira Dillon, who herself lives with ME:

…” "The online art exhibition offers a poignant insight into the lived experience of Severe ME - a glimpse into that hidden world. The artworks presented reflect not only the suffering associated with this disease, but also the courage, resilience, and humanity of those affected. Each piece of art, whether created by those with Severe ME or their caregivers or supporters, reflects the inner lives of people too often unseen and unheard." 

Corina: "… [It was] an huge honour to be part of this mind altering exhibition. I believe art is the most powerful way to share our often difficult to comprehend illness. Many of us live hidden from society. The public's view of ME can still be one of ‘tiredness'.

This illness is indescribable in words. Images often go straight to someone's heart and mind and stay there to 'dissect', to ponder."

The sea is gently dispersing the ripples…

Creativity, or the creative thought keeps my mind afloat. I can’t say I am making anything other than trying to write in my diary, and the occasional trial with watercolour brush pens (thanks Sue), or look at autumnal life in the central garden. 

I have ample time to reflect on the journey I made, and continue to make, shared with you all via my creative mind. At times the reality of day to day life with ME is a different story than my (social) media shows. But that might be for another day.

For now let’s celebrate my creative mind.

BE WELL!

Corina

September 2025

If you like to read the recent news paper articles, they can be accessed at the Art Archive. And here are two art reviews in words:

Review by Liam Murphy of my book ‘In bed I cut words’ appeared in the Munster Express, on 22 July 2025 in his ‘Expression’  column.

(Words shared with permission)

“Corina Duyn is an inspirational artist and a creative, and recently she published another attractive book, In Bed I Cut Words. This time, a paperback edition of her earlier hardcover edition, designed by David Murphy at Red Heaven Design. This book is a poignant yet powerful expression of an artist's response to life with Myalgic Encephalomyelitis (ME), a condition she has lived with for twenty-six years.

This newspaper has been reviewing Corina's work for over twenty years. During this time, she produced puppets and illustrated beautiful books to tell various stories, thereby establishing her artistic reputation. She made her first rag doll at the age of ten, which led her to become a puppet designer and maker, writer, and visual artist.

Aged thirty-six, she was diagnosed with ME. Corina was finding ways to cope and continue her artistic vision. She was unshaken in her need to make art and still believes "there is always a way".

Since 2021, Corina has been living in full-time care at Signacare Nursing Home. Waterford Healing Arts and Creative Waterford connected her with artist Caroline Schofield. This led to a wonderful and groundbreaking 2023 exhibition at GOMA, titled 'I Brought The Dream Of Flying'. This was a triumph for Corina's determination, persistence and resilience.

As her physical ability weakened, she produced collages, mostly from her bed; the title strikes home: "In Bed I Cut Words." This book will evoke pain and anger, but what shines out most is the work of an artist whose limitations will not defeat them. The photographs in this book illuminate the inner beauty of art and expression under challenging conditions. The work is minimalist but powerful, and the stoicism does not hide the frustration, the battle with 'imprisonment' of the artist within the person and within a care setting. There is grief and pain, but there is also achievement, glorious, radiating art making at all costs.

Corina's poem strikes home: "In bed I cut words until I can rest in a world, where loss and pain live alongside beauty and hope".

Art: What Lies Beneath. NIALL MacMONAGLE

“A fearless artistic voice refusing to be silenced” see also

 

Artist Corina Duyn: ‘Puppetry forced me to look deep into the reality of my illness

 A photograph of Corina Duyn, aged three, shows her pencil in hand, totally focused on what she is drawing. Aged four, she made a scrapbook containing cut-out wrapping paper graphics.

Last year Duyn published In Bed I Cut Words - what she describes as "a scrapbook of sorts" containing recent artworks, collages and her sculptures. She has been making and creating her whole life.

From Beverwijk, in the Netherlands, in her late teens Duyn moved to Haarlem, "full of art, music, galleries, museums, an alternative jazz club. My parents and five siblings were all creatives in different ways.

"My dad was a coppersmith, [but] worked in a factory to provide for his family. I think it broke his heart. Just before he died suddenly at 59 - I was 14 - he was working on a model of the HMS Bounty and I inherited his attention to detail.

"We made our own things. My mother made our clothes. We made do with what we had. I still do. I had my own little hand-operated sewing machine, made dolls clothes and, aged 10, made my first rag doll. That was the start of my interest in dolls and puppets.

"My father had given me a set of a hand mitre saw and hand drill and I used this to create my first puppet a year after he passed away."

Art wasn't part of Duyn's schooling. "We did cross stitching and sewing and I was told I was too meticulous and thus too slow." And though she would, have preferred to study art and culture, she says: “I trained as a nurse-carer and studied social care while working in a group home with adults with intellectual disabilities."

She loves puppetry. "Puppets have a freedom when animated" and Duyn realises "puppetry forced me to look deep into the reality of my illness”. Art, once a hobby, "became my work after my move to Ireland".

She came in 1989 for six months and returned a year later for good. As caretaker of Dromana House, Cappoquin, Co Waterford, she began her Fantasy Folk Artist Dolls, had a home studio, big corporate commis-sions, several exhibitions and taught puppet making.

But 27 years ago Duyn's life changed dramatically.

"Illness - Myalgic Encephalomyelitis (or chronic fatigue syndrome), ME - changed my life overnight and four years ago I had to, sadly, give up my independent life at my lovely home, garden and studio to live in care” But she continues to make art.

"My creative brain will not be silenced," she says. Her epigraph to In Bed I Cut Words reads: "In bed I cut words until I can rest in a world where loss and pain live alongside beauty and hope." 

Waterford Healing Arts supports Duyn's work and since moving into care, Duyn, in collaboration with artist Caroline Schofield, created this sculpture, Unspoken Words, using papier-mache, petals, leaves, feathers and a gifted necklace.

"It tells a story of my creative life, before illness, through illness and life in care. No longer able to make collages - my brain and hands did not co-operate - I had packs of collected words shredded, would take a handful, mixed it with glue, stuck it on the head." Duyn calls it "tum-bling-of-words hair". 

Unspoken Words contains many memories. "Memories of teaching before I became ill, and hidden stories. I am always looking for ways to bring ideas into being."

‘In bed I cut words’; the art, the making, the journey.

Where to start. 

A year after my last blog I did write some blog post - but only in my head. I ‘write’ at times when I have no access to my phone or iPad, or my body is simply not able to go beyond mere thoughts. Thus these words don’t see the light of day. Some scribbles are noted in my private notebook. Below is a compilation of notes collected/written over at least seven weeks or probably much longer. I hope they make sense of a complex situation.

IN SHORT

There are very contrasting realities going on at the same time. The ever increasing levels of debilitating illness ME I live with for 26 years; added diagnosis and related test and medication, living in care, a creative mind and the ability to observe nature. All are sides of the same story. Intertwined they resulted in the publication of probably my most important Book: In bed I cut words

The momentous moment my book ‘In bed I cut words’ arrived
in my nursing home room.

How does one square this? To be honest, with great difficulty. At times I experience such deep sorrow and grief of the many losses. My creative mind remains accessible while my body is increasingly unreliable to cooperate, which mean the creative thoughts stay thoughts. The positive aspects, like my observations of nature, I share occasionally on social media, the other more difficult ones I keep to myself, explore in my mind or share with very few carefully selected others.

IN MORE DETAIL:

THE BOOK

I never thought I’d write another book again.  

And in a way I didn’t.

And in a way I did. 

A book with a selection of collages made over a one year period starting a year after my move into care April 2021 - aged 59.   

I was told these collages could make a ‘guide to what it is like to live in care’ as they were spontaneous, intuitive responses to my life in care. Perhaps for care staff to create a different perspective. Or support for others in my situation.

Recce at GOMA

In November 2022 at the recce for the I brought the dream of flying  exhibition at GOMA Gallery of Modern Art, Waterford. I said: “maybe I don’t need to have this exhibition, just a book with collages. A bit like how Invisible Octopus  poem came about after a period of exploring puppetry in terms of illness”. The simple wording and twelve images said perhaps more than a puppetry film… Well. I think it did.

We obviously did have the exhibition at GOMA in January 2023, and at Creative Brain Week March 2023. It is a true wonder what happened with that, from that, and since that.

I created more collages for a few months during and after the exhibition until my hands and brain made it impossible to continue. I put the collages scrapbooks away. Out of sight. In the wardrobe before giving them to my co-artist Caroline and to Waterford Healing Arts for safekeeping over a year ago. And to perhaps have them publish a book on my behalf. Under one major stipulation: “I do not want to take part in its creation.”

It didn’t happen that way.

A few months ago spurred on by the publication of ‘Art by their Side’ from the Irish Hospice Foundation, the collage book idea kept knocking on the inside of my skull. 

“Do you hear me. We want out.”

On a brave morning late April 2024 I emailed Lismore graphic designer David Murphy from Red Heaven Design about a collages book. Quoting the ‘poem’ which later inspired the title of the book.

In bed 

I cut words 

until I can rest 

in a world 

where loss and pain 

live alongside 

beauty and hope

(Corina Duyn)

We worked together before. I handed him the collage work to make into a book. Without me being involved.

Famous last words.

As it turned out I have been involved in every step and it has been both challenging and good for my brain. I am in need of the creative conversation. A creative collaboration. It is my lifeline.

And from a simple book with images, it has morphed into an astonishing beautiful book with a collection of images and written reflections. Not mine. But by some amazingly insightful gifted people. I could not have done this without them.

Collages at GOMA. Images from Case study

“To reinvent the medium of sharing is so cathartic and powerfully positive. It’s just as cathartic as the art itself. I love that your work can transcend to exist in a new place to be seen by more eyes.”      

(Moira Dillon. MEAI)

There were many days I felt the need to give up on the book. It was and still is overwhelming in more ways than I can express here. But the thought that from my huge challenges I can make perhaps a difference to other people’s experiences of illness and care kept me going. As well as the beautiful collaborations and support I received along the way at times from unexpected sources. 

For example when I rang the Samaritans a few months ago. First time ever in my life and had a wonderful conversation with a kind man who totally understood the challenges of being in care at a young age. Of losing my home. He really got it without me having to explain. And commented on how this (then) book-to-be and my concerns about it, and my previous work could potentially influence people’s minds in years to come. It was not said in a ‘This is what you need to hear’ kind of way. It was all said with such understanding, compassion and belief. It was a surreal experience.

Now the books are here. In my room. All 200 of them. And had a tiny but very significant ‘book-opening- celebration’. See more below at my hopes for the book. But first the other side…

Shirley (activities)  & Ian (maintenance) bringing in the treasures

The joy. Followed by the realisation of the story it holds…

ILLNESS & CARE

The ever increasing challenges exposed on me by Myalgic Encephalomyelitis (ME) over the past year result in further feelings of loss. Of grief. As well as fear during a full body paralysis episode which was unfortunately overlooked. I can hear and see. But can not move or speak. When after four hours I was found my speech was slurred and I was in immense pain, resulting in a trip to the Emergency Department. 

I am grateful to have had a positive experience with both the paramedics and hospital doctor who understood ME and acknowledged the decline in health I am experiencing. 

It has taken me a month to partially recover from this episode. 

5 days after the paralysis episode…

Days after, and at times still do, I sit with my sorrow. Reliving the moments, the episode, the incident, including when I believed I was dying. Which was actually a peaceful moment. How ever long that lasted I don’t know until I came round and realised I could not call for help.

I do cry at times of the challenges my body throws at me and try to understand the complexities of life in care. This deep sorrow which can perhaps be perceived as me being difficult. I also value the moments of good support I have here, and necessary outside support. 

There are more medical tests I had vowed to never do again. More medication which helps one problem but affect the ME in a negative way. Years ago I said I want quality of life, not quantity. No more big tests. But where can one clearly draw that line and say no. It all requires a constant evaluation of life. With illness. In care.

The overriding thought “I want to go home” is probably to not have to feel this way. To go back to a life. Then I cry a little and revert back to my long list of self care, of self compassion and try to find my way forward again. I usually do.

The book - in a way - is as a result of all of this.

And so is this (long overdue) blog. 

WHAT SUSTAINS ME

My ability to observe the world in the garden remains. Although I am very little part of it. I share images or stories on social media of what I see from my bed. Perhaps giving a skewed perception of my reality.

Nature makes me think of this quote by Charlotte Naughton about her aunt Ann Bruce: 

She told me that, for her, nothing tasted right any more, literally and metaphorically: “I can still enjoy things like the first snowdrop, bits of nature coming to life. But there’s not enough. 

My life is still good. What’s gone is my capacity to engage with it and embrace it and enjoy it.” 

However  I keep looking and being enthused by seeing the young fox ‘meditating’ by the tree. Or watching the friendship between hens and ducky. And observing a small flock of blackbirds devouring the bright red holly berries in the space of a few days. 

Creative thinking and conversations are a vital lifeline too.

…  It’s as essential as breathing

Or your heart beating, alive 

Breathing, smiling, living, hurting, loving

Sending nourishment to your whole body and mind … 

 

(Pascale De Coninck)

I deeply value kindness, respect and understanding. For my own well-being I spend most time in silence on my bed. I look after my house plants at the weekend. When able, or necessary I listen to meditations, with headphones on needs be. I like the lights off, and after 5pm the curtains closed. I change from being on the bed, to being in the bed.  I have battery operated candles near the Buddha sculptures in my room. As gently as memory allows I reminisce about the past, and what the future might bring. Where to go from here.

BACK TO THE BOOK. The small but beautiful book-opening-celebration

As I am not able to have a public launch I had a very small but beautiful ‘book-opening-celebration’ in my room with the three women who made my creative life in care a possibility, a reality: Maeve Butler from Waterford Healing Arts/Réalta  who answered my call for creative support through Catherine Drea back in 2021. Which brought Visual Artist Caroline Schofield  into my room. We had an extraordinary creative journey together. 

And Katherine Collins from Creative Waterford who was determined to secure funding to keep our work going beyond the first exploration phase supported by Waterford Healing Arts and funded the exhibition. Of which she said at the launch: “… two artist working collaboratively, showcasing how creativity can take place in unexpected places, in a nursing home […] it has broken down boundaries…” (about 7 minutes in)

It is through this art support I have funded the creation and publication of In bed I cut words. This limited edition of 200 books is free. Although to help me go ‘full circle’ donations are gratefully accepted to Waterford Healing Arts, at readers own choosing.

With Caroline Schofield

‘In bed I cut words’

With Maeve Butler

With Katherine Collins

Most copies are going out later this week/next few weeks to care organisations and those involved in healing arts: for example Community and Residential Care programs like Caru.ie and communication initiative Time To Talk  at Irish Hospice Foundation. To Creativity in Care (Scotland) for compassionate care programs and socially engaged arts. To libraries, arts offices with a track record of arts and health and arts and disability. Réalta, Creative Ireland; disability organisation and advocates. And all those whom have made this project possible.

As it stands - all the 200 copies are pretty much spoken for. What an honour. There will be an online version at some point in the near future.

Caroline, Katherine, Maeve, and my sculpture ‘Wisdom’
moving to the Art collection at Waterford Healing Arts.

My hope is … 

that the book will be re-published in paperback version in greater numbers. But this is outside of my ability to organise, fund, or distribute. I simply handed this thought to the universe and hope someone will take on the baton. If that is what is to happen to reach many more minds. 

For example books to the others under 65 in nursing homes. See Wasted Lived Ombudsman report. In May 2024 there were at least 1242 people under the age of 65 in nursing homes. 

Of which I am one. 

Maybe I can be one ‘less wasted life’.

Other books for training in community care, in healthcare, doctors, but also for bookshops, for galleries? Some of these ideas and wishes are my own, some are trusted to me by those who are deeply aware of the work. 

“This is a work of Art”, Caroline told me. And I trust her.

I am proud and at the same time hugely overwhelmed.

In bed I cut words

My gift to the world.

About the necessity of Art.

In illness.

In care.

In life.

This book came into being while life is severely curtailed by ME 

and through the collaborations with some beautiful minds along the way.

For any book related news and updates please visit:

https://www.corinaduyn.com/site/in-bed-i-cut-words

For the story and links about my now 26 year creative journey with ME please visit:

https://www.corinaduyn.com/site/

Be well

Corina Duyn

Artist in care

Update March 2026.

The book can now be read and shared for free on ISSUU - LITTLE WINGS  including all Corina’s catalogue of writing created over the past twenty years