It is easy to walk past without noticing it, positioned close to the northwest angle of the wall rather than centred or displayed prominently. The expression is grotesque in the older, technical sense of the word, meaning deliberately distorted or exaggerated rather than merely ugly, and the grooved cheeks pulling at the open mouth give it something between a grimace and a shout frozen in stone.

The head almost certainly did not begin its existence where it now sits. According to the archaeological record compiled by Caimin O'Brien, the carving was probably removed from the ruins of a medieval church that still stands to the north of the present building, and incorporated into the west gable of the Church of Ireland structure sometime after 1700. The practice of recycling carved stonework from older ecclesiastical ruins into newer buildings was not uncommon in Ireland during the post-medieval period; it was practical, and the symbolic weight of the original material was rarely a primary concern. The medieval church from which the head was likely taken is a separate recorded monument, and the two sites sit close enough together that the relationship between them is legible in the landscape. The sandstone itself has weathered considerably over the centuries, with visible flaking around the mouth and along the sides of the head.

The head is on the exterior face of the west wall, so there is no need to enter the church to see it. It sits near the northwest corner, which means approaching from that angle gives the best view. The weathering is significant enough that the finer details of the carving, the small ears and the oval eyes in particular, require a close look in reasonable light. Overcast days can actually help here, as direct sunlight tends to flatten shallow relief carving rather than reveal it. The adjoining medieval ruins to the north are worth examining separately, as they represent the probable original context for the head before it was moved and built into its current position.