Seamus McKenna

Seamus McKenna's day begins before dawn in Belfast, where the persistent hum of the city trickles into his subsidized flat. He spends hours in his dockside workshop, painstakingly mixing paints and sanding out dents, while the whistled tune only he knows drifts through the air. Practical worries of bills and a leaky ceiling focus him, but what truly captures him is the subtle textural dance of silence, felt in the stairwell's whisper once the children have left for school.