After a weekend around- reading, sleeping, coffee and tea consuming, thinking, feeling alone, feeling community, going to church with Megan Buff, spending the night at her place and giggling all along, conversing a bit with my housemate Dale from South Africa, and resting and walking-
all those things one does in Belfast, I arrived home Sunday night to finish Jayber Crow, a novel by Wendell Berry. Sometimes it is as though the words in a book are read at the perfect moment or maybe that I read these words through a lens that enables them to fit within my own life. Whatever the case, it was through the reading and completion of this book that I felt a transition, one that allowed me to wake this morning with a feeling and a truth I have not seen yet so clearly:
A deep love for Belfast, Northern Ireland.
As I have been here, because of the weight of my studies, the occasional loneliness, and the oddness of being a foreigner even in a western culture, it is almost as though negativity has overcome. But what I have forgotten to focus on are these things:
The beauty of green, even in gray.
The wonderful people who have taken me in, and while I am sometimes alone at night, there is a community here most fascinating to take part in. And even as these are new relationships, how does one ever become intertwined in depth without taking the time to transition from new friend to old friend?
I have been lost in "missing" those at home such a great deal that I am forgetting the virtue of living in a fully present way. A quote from childhood that still sits heavily: "Wherever you go, go with all of your heart."
And even though the nature of my research is to study conflict, this cannot negate the humanness and the stunning complexity of this city. Because even amidst sorrow there is great joy. Even amidst healing hearts and broken hearts from violence in the years past there is the ability to stumble upon a scene: people of all ages dressed in all of their various colors, children, young couples, elderly, even drunkards, sitting outside yesterday and watching a street performer... standing on stilts, juggling, cracking jokes...
I looked around and saw faces. and every face was laughing. almost childlike and absolutely brilliant. the joy i took from this moment is still lingering, and reminding me that joy does exist. and so i will not forget to remember and continue studying the sorrow of this place, but what i cannot do is dwell only on the lack of so that i forget the abundance.
Because while I miss you, and I miss home, and I miss those things that comfort me, I am suddenly overjoyed with the discomfort of Belfast, such discomfort that is almost comfortable in its awkwardness. It is a city, and there are cities everywhere. But is a city with its own people, its own stories, its own grace and mercy and pain.
This week is to be a good week. I have a meeting tonight with a friend and then a group of people getting together to speak of sustainability and helping others and loving and how we can better do this. And tomorrow lunch and art galleries with a new friend I met who also studied Art and Philosophy, and more events. Wednesday I will go to a day of reflection at Wave Trauma Centre. Thursday I will meet with women and others. And Friday, well, James arrives and will stay for three weeks thereafter. These things are good. Really good.
And so I thank God for his/ her ability to bring comfort when I think it is gone. And I regret the moments I have spent dwelling a bit too much on the negative. But this cannot prevent me from now remembering it all at once in its bittersweet dance.
I'll end with the wisdom of Wendell Berry, Jayber Crow:
The trouble with many of my dreams was that they were perfectly rational, or they came from perfectly rational fears. They came from The Economy and The War- that is to say The News. It really didn't make any difference whether I was asleep or awake. All I needed was to be alone and quiet and in the dark, so that my mind could concentrate itself on fearful things, and it could not be unconcentrated sometimes until daylight.
But he goes on to express that daylight does come, and that sorrow and joy do intermingle, and that there is great hope and even greater mercy.
In all my love,
Megh
22 June 2009
18 June 2009
the misty isle.
misty isle.
ireland.
northern ireland, more specifically.
and it is beautiful.
i say that word so often and fear it loses its meaning, but sometimes it is exactly what is needed. I think beauty can also include loss, conflict, pain, a burdened past.
would one even appreciate hope without despair along the way?
"how can we call it the past when it hasn't even passed?" These are the words I heard at the conference yesterday, presented by the Art's Council of Northern Ireland and titled "Art in Conflict." Lately I have been thinking alot about trauma. I have been working with WAVE Trauma Center, making artwork with victims of the Troubles, and in Scotland I also encountered a place for the bereaved, those missing family members who have died to drugs and abuse. And I wonder, is pain ever to stop?
The minister I lived with in Scotland mentioned that for the longest time she thought one should at some point stop grieving, but had a revelation that no, the grieving may be forever. and she thinks this is okay. and i think this is okay. it seems as long as we can recognize that pain, grief, trama, hurt, etc, etc, etc, exist, we can alse recognize how to deal with this. If I realize my own depression as something that may be forever, well then I can equally learn more and more what seems to provide peace from this. I can take a walk through nature. I can feel the cool rain and hear even the thunder. Last week I walked into City Center and along the way was drenched by the thunder storm, something that rarely occurs here. Suddenly I cried. "Why are tears rolling down?" And it was clear. For a moment, if I blurred my vision a bit and simply took in the sounds of the sweet thunder, as I titled it in Africa, I was brought back to the fall. I felt myself walking through Uganda, through Rwanda. It was terribly painful and terribly beautiful. Sometimes these moments are the only ones that can help me heal, help me remember.
As I travel I learn of more and more pain, but I also learn of more and more humannness.
There is humanness.
And I will despair if I only dwell in pain, but hope if I look at the individual level. Finding joy in those i meet:
the rwandan girl who now sews and received therapy through PHARP
the northern irish boy who, once a victim, now volunteers with youth
the homeless friend who laughs with me about life and love
these people
this girl
me right here.
and who am I in this picture?
"Endlessly humbled." These are the words of Albie Sachs, a Justice on the Constitutional Court in South Africa who spoke at the conference yesterday. At the age of 21 he began pushing for human rights in South Africa. Somewhere in those years he was imprisoned, exiled, and bombed. And through all of his despair, his wisdom absolutely encouraged. He expressed his humility as a sign of hope, and even moreso, he expressed HOPE.
Hope, humanness. These are the words.
Today I am resting between meetings of Art Therapists, Trauma Centers, Art and Healing Organizations, Women's Groups, Books, Literature, Etc. Today I am rejoicing over the community at home whom I miss, and the community here that is born. Today I am rejoicing over the little successes, that I learn are in fact the biggest successes.
in the green
in the rain
in the sun
love always, and deeply. and find peace in the mystery of it all.
ireland.
northern ireland, more specifically.
and it is beautiful.
i say that word so often and fear it loses its meaning, but sometimes it is exactly what is needed. I think beauty can also include loss, conflict, pain, a burdened past.
would one even appreciate hope without despair along the way?
"how can we call it the past when it hasn't even passed?" These are the words I heard at the conference yesterday, presented by the Art's Council of Northern Ireland and titled "Art in Conflict." Lately I have been thinking alot about trauma. I have been working with WAVE Trauma Center, making artwork with victims of the Troubles, and in Scotland I also encountered a place for the bereaved, those missing family members who have died to drugs and abuse. And I wonder, is pain ever to stop?
The minister I lived with in Scotland mentioned that for the longest time she thought one should at some point stop grieving, but had a revelation that no, the grieving may be forever. and she thinks this is okay. and i think this is okay. it seems as long as we can recognize that pain, grief, trama, hurt, etc, etc, etc, exist, we can alse recognize how to deal with this. If I realize my own depression as something that may be forever, well then I can equally learn more and more what seems to provide peace from this. I can take a walk through nature. I can feel the cool rain and hear even the thunder. Last week I walked into City Center and along the way was drenched by the thunder storm, something that rarely occurs here. Suddenly I cried. "Why are tears rolling down?" And it was clear. For a moment, if I blurred my vision a bit and simply took in the sounds of the sweet thunder, as I titled it in Africa, I was brought back to the fall. I felt myself walking through Uganda, through Rwanda. It was terribly painful and terribly beautiful. Sometimes these moments are the only ones that can help me heal, help me remember.
As I travel I learn of more and more pain, but I also learn of more and more humannness.
There is humanness.
And I will despair if I only dwell in pain, but hope if I look at the individual level. Finding joy in those i meet:
the rwandan girl who now sews and received therapy through PHARP
the northern irish boy who, once a victim, now volunteers with youth
the homeless friend who laughs with me about life and love
these people
this girl
me right here.
and who am I in this picture?
"Endlessly humbled." These are the words of Albie Sachs, a Justice on the Constitutional Court in South Africa who spoke at the conference yesterday. At the age of 21 he began pushing for human rights in South Africa. Somewhere in those years he was imprisoned, exiled, and bombed. And through all of his despair, his wisdom absolutely encouraged. He expressed his humility as a sign of hope, and even moreso, he expressed HOPE.
Hope, humanness. These are the words.
Today I am resting between meetings of Art Therapists, Trauma Centers, Art and Healing Organizations, Women's Groups, Books, Literature, Etc. Today I am rejoicing over the community at home whom I miss, and the community here that is born. Today I am rejoicing over the little successes, that I learn are in fact the biggest successes.
in the green
in the rain
in the sun
love always, and deeply. and find peace in the mystery of it all.
08 June 2009
Disbelief in Belfast.
There once was a girl with short brown hair.
And she went to Scotland.
And there she was with Rachel, where the most beautiful island of skye happened to run into them, and it was full of magic.
and then solitude found her as she said her goodbyes to Rachel.
Only last thursday this girl arrived in Belfast, Northern Ireland with all the fear and fright and angst one can know, but today is Monday evening, and only joy befits her.
----
And this girl is me, and this girl is full of glee.
I cannot even find words and that is why I broke into somewhat childish story form above, but today I arrived back to my apartment after a day of research and suddenly burst into laughter. And it was joyful. And it was surreal. As though I am not actually the only one in the apartment, but angels and spirits and the Higher being celebrate with me. I felt this joy only to be expressed in giggles and shouts.
I arrived on Thursday to wonderful people, and since then have only met more and more. I find that only in humility are things actually accomplished, recognizing that yes I must respond but also I have to trust a great orchestration. I have been to an Art Therapy meeting where I made art with fellow artists, I have met elderly ladies who have shared their stories, I have been to a church service and connected with friends my age. The research is indeed draining, as I am contemplating huge questions of peace, reconciliation, conflict, and how art can be used as a healing force in all of this, but it is equally rejuvenating, in that my passions are being awakened more and more.
After a day of hearing stories and resting in my apartment (which I am living in this week alone as the two girls, Megan and Emily, who live her are on vacation), I went on a walk in the sun. And often it is cloudy here, but the sun came out around two today. I walked along the river, soaking up the greens, the blues, the glimmers, the rays. It was a time alone, a time to reflect, and a time to calm. I am forced each day to figure a healthy balance between work and rest, and felt that rest could only be achieved today by seeking wisdom from nature.
It feels that words can't portray what this research is doing, what my meeting today did, and what my walk alone was, but I trust you can understand its blessing. I know that I cannot change the world in a large way, but I am reminded that even the simplest hello is love. And that love is shared through others. And that love is shared through me.
I wish I had more energy to type, but I am going to use silence instead.
I do contemplate home. I wonder when I go, and when I return. If I am always going away, where is home? Because I no doubt miss it. It is a challenge being mostly alone in Northern Ireland, reflecting on my famliy and friendships in California, reminiscing my summer in Newberg, Oregon of 2008, remembering the sweet people I love in Portland. It all potentially haunts me, but it also propels me to continue. I wonder how long I can be a nomad. A friend said to me, "You are a nomad within a nomad within a nomad." And I remind myself, even nomads have homes.
So what is home? Maybe it is the arrangement of photos I taped up to the wall. Maybe it is the fabric I have with me. Maybe it is the greater sense of eternal connection I feel with you. Maybe it is the yellow, purple, and white flowers I picked so as to accompany in my solitude. Maybe it is the laundry hanging, or the music playing on this computer. Don't we all see sun? Don't we all see flowers? and music? and companionship? and fabric and photos and sounds of birds and rivers? And I believe that if we can find one connection we can be always joined. That the world can unite in a greater recognition of humanness, and maybe that is all I am exploring as I launch more deeply into this culture.
I find art inspiration, questions beyond my comprehension, peace in philosophy, and comfort in God.
:so she continues forth until the end of july:
missing and loving
-Megh
And she went to Scotland.
And there she was with Rachel, where the most beautiful island of skye happened to run into them, and it was full of magic.
and then solitude found her as she said her goodbyes to Rachel.
Only last thursday this girl arrived in Belfast, Northern Ireland with all the fear and fright and angst one can know, but today is Monday evening, and only joy befits her.
----
And this girl is me, and this girl is full of glee.
I cannot even find words and that is why I broke into somewhat childish story form above, but today I arrived back to my apartment after a day of research and suddenly burst into laughter. And it was joyful. And it was surreal. As though I am not actually the only one in the apartment, but angels and spirits and the Higher being celebrate with me. I felt this joy only to be expressed in giggles and shouts.
I arrived on Thursday to wonderful people, and since then have only met more and more. I find that only in humility are things actually accomplished, recognizing that yes I must respond but also I have to trust a great orchestration. I have been to an Art Therapy meeting where I made art with fellow artists, I have met elderly ladies who have shared their stories, I have been to a church service and connected with friends my age. The research is indeed draining, as I am contemplating huge questions of peace, reconciliation, conflict, and how art can be used as a healing force in all of this, but it is equally rejuvenating, in that my passions are being awakened more and more.
After a day of hearing stories and resting in my apartment (which I am living in this week alone as the two girls, Megan and Emily, who live her are on vacation), I went on a walk in the sun. And often it is cloudy here, but the sun came out around two today. I walked along the river, soaking up the greens, the blues, the glimmers, the rays. It was a time alone, a time to reflect, and a time to calm. I am forced each day to figure a healthy balance between work and rest, and felt that rest could only be achieved today by seeking wisdom from nature.
It feels that words can't portray what this research is doing, what my meeting today did, and what my walk alone was, but I trust you can understand its blessing. I know that I cannot change the world in a large way, but I am reminded that even the simplest hello is love. And that love is shared through others. And that love is shared through me.
I wish I had more energy to type, but I am going to use silence instead.
I do contemplate home. I wonder when I go, and when I return. If I am always going away, where is home? Because I no doubt miss it. It is a challenge being mostly alone in Northern Ireland, reflecting on my famliy and friendships in California, reminiscing my summer in Newberg, Oregon of 2008, remembering the sweet people I love in Portland. It all potentially haunts me, but it also propels me to continue. I wonder how long I can be a nomad. A friend said to me, "You are a nomad within a nomad within a nomad." And I remind myself, even nomads have homes.
So what is home? Maybe it is the arrangement of photos I taped up to the wall. Maybe it is the fabric I have with me. Maybe it is the greater sense of eternal connection I feel with you. Maybe it is the yellow, purple, and white flowers I picked so as to accompany in my solitude. Maybe it is the laundry hanging, or the music playing on this computer. Don't we all see sun? Don't we all see flowers? and music? and companionship? and fabric and photos and sounds of birds and rivers? And I believe that if we can find one connection we can be always joined. That the world can unite in a greater recognition of humanness, and maybe that is all I am exploring as I launch more deeply into this culture.
I find art inspiration, questions beyond my comprehension, peace in philosophy, and comfort in God.
:so she continues forth until the end of july:
missing and loving
-Megh
23 May 2009
the minister
we met this minister.
she is a stunning woman.
full of grace and peace and strength.
she began a ministry for those around her community that caters to children who have lost family members. the program uses art therapy to help children cope.
i was so inspired.
i don't always know why I am inspired. Why do I want to do everything? and why am I only human? There are so many people to help. Orphanages, Homeless people, my neighbor's next door.
I am only human.
I am only human.
And being only human, I am called to love my neighbor. My near-dweller. I am called to respond to the first face I see. Self-forgetting, other-loving.
Thank you Kierkegaard, Levinas, Jesus.
I am reminded that their is grace. But that always people will need love. So I can never stop. We can never stop. This need for love is a-satiable.
The sweet minister I mentioned earlier offered Rachel and I her home to stay in for the next 10 days.
She loved, and how gleeful I am!
:)
she is a stunning woman.
full of grace and peace and strength.
she began a ministry for those around her community that caters to children who have lost family members. the program uses art therapy to help children cope.
i was so inspired.
i don't always know why I am inspired. Why do I want to do everything? and why am I only human? There are so many people to help. Orphanages, Homeless people, my neighbor's next door.
I am only human.
I am only human.
And being only human, I am called to love my neighbor. My near-dweller. I am called to respond to the first face I see. Self-forgetting, other-loving.
Thank you Kierkegaard, Levinas, Jesus.
I am reminded that their is grace. But that always people will need love. So I can never stop. We can never stop. This need for love is a-satiable.
The sweet minister I mentioned earlier offered Rachel and I her home to stay in for the next 10 days.
She loved, and how gleeful I am!
:)
22 May 2009
edinburgh, scotland
sometimes i arrive in a place and feel empty. dark. overcome by solitude and loneliness even when surrounded by thousands.
others, though, are opposite.
upon arrival to edinburgh, scotland, only feelings of hope.
this place is rich in history. each building dating back centuries.
the people move quickly, but there is a sense of community.
condensed city. almost like portland. architecture pulling me in.
scottish tourists shops and charity shops and coffee and tea.
traditional and beautiful.
but words are only so much.
only so powerful.
i am feeling lonely often, but after a kind of dark week, i feel mostly restored.
Last weekend we ventured to the spiritual island of Iona. Incredibly beautiful. And absolutely brilliant.
I returned though to a city in Scotland called Stirling. Really beautiful. But also very exhausted from the constant movement from city to city, place to place, adjustment to adjustment.
Arrival to Edinburgh seems absolutely grand. Because Rachel and I plan on staying here for over 10 days. We are hoping to find a place to stay and we will have a home for a good amount of time.
How eager I am for Belfast.
How much I miss you.
How grateful I am for the paradox of solitude... lonely and beautiful. Painful and Joyful.
-Megh
others, though, are opposite.
upon arrival to edinburgh, scotland, only feelings of hope.
this place is rich in history. each building dating back centuries.
the people move quickly, but there is a sense of community.
condensed city. almost like portland. architecture pulling me in.
scottish tourists shops and charity shops and coffee and tea.
traditional and beautiful.
but words are only so much.
only so powerful.
i am feeling lonely often, but after a kind of dark week, i feel mostly restored.
Last weekend we ventured to the spiritual island of Iona. Incredibly beautiful. And absolutely brilliant.
I returned though to a city in Scotland called Stirling. Really beautiful. But also very exhausted from the constant movement from city to city, place to place, adjustment to adjustment.
Arrival to Edinburgh seems absolutely grand. Because Rachel and I plan on staying here for over 10 days. We are hoping to find a place to stay and we will have a home for a good amount of time.
How eager I am for Belfast.
How much I miss you.
How grateful I am for the paradox of solitude... lonely and beautiful. Painful and Joyful.
-Megh
12 May 2009
cottonballs
it has been about 7 days now.
and what do i think of ireland?
with its often passive aggresive nature (although I'll avoid generalizing)
and its not so welcoming element
and sometimes the loneliness that overtakes
and even the feelings of confusion
i absolutely love ireland
i list off the few negative elements, because in truth every negative in fact is only a blur of a a deeper positive, a distortion of a deeper good. is there really an evil? i believe all things are good and when we see evil... that evil is only a privation of a more present light.
because in truth the passive aggressive component can teach me a lesson to gentleness.
the fact that people often are more reserved shows a beautiful element of mystery.
the distance between my country and your country illustrates respect for homeland, and history, and tradition.
and the lonely attitude only comes at times. and again i'll iterate that loneliness is also only a distortion of good. it is only a truth that I am forced to spend time in solitude. and should i truly run from myself? No. the solitude is necessary and most often i embrace it fully (or at least attempt).
confusion only results from my presence in another country. i compare and contrast. i compare the incomparabe nature of africa to the incomparable nature of ireland. and i expect clarity? In fact it is again blurry when i begin to compare. there are indeed similarities but the strongest is that truth that within each country is humanness. each individual i encounter is human. how, then, can i compare? countries that are composed of people, all existing within uniqueness.
so we have driven through green pastures. sheep are as cottonballs, floundering about on green lands. cows are adorable and everywhere. horses run wildly at times. i walk through cities as well and find people from everywhere. i hear languages amidst other languages and people pass by.
dublin is interesting. a big city full of history and past, yet also people. people running everywhere doing everything. i stick to the statement that you've seen one city and you've seen them all, but that would in fact erase the unique definition of dublin. i love it. and pubs are public houses. hard to find an authentic one in dublin because they are made to create satisfaction for tourists, yet i have indeed found what i'd love to call authentic.
just the other day i escaped the group setting after attending a catholic mass, rich in historical nature. the glass windows of color and the sunshine shedding in. the angelic hymns surrounding. vocals, prayers in unison. Dad always said "Stand up Sit down FIght! FIght! FIght!" I still agree, Pops, but it is quite intriguing, isn't it? people from all walks of life reciting verses together. Even though I cannot agree with all that is Catholic, I can much approve of the setting. I felt so heavy. the weight of centuries gently on my shoulders.
and after mass, as I said, I wandered alone. My journal, myself, and I, in this beautiful city called Galway.
i wandered throughout the city finding local housing and universities. and suddenly I asked for guidance... asking the spirits? the angels? the God? Whatever it was, I suddenly heard music from a nearby door. There were old men playing and singing and hyming irish music. I met a German girl. 23 and travelling throughout Ireland. It is these interactions that I live for... the interactions where human being meets human being. In my independence I find connection. And apparently this is the best pub in all of Galway.
and I love this place. We have seen ruins amidst hills and abbeys and I have ran along cliffs toward ancient rubble.
i cannot help but compare what I already know, thinking of africa and home.
and while there are challenges, this journey is beautiful.
just one night left in galway.
tomorrow is belfast.
and a few days from now we head to scotland.
i love you dear family and friends.
I thank the Lord for this opportunity, for these next few months of human exploration, and I ask that you feel my love.
_megh
and what do i think of ireland?
with its often passive aggresive nature (although I'll avoid generalizing)
and its not so welcoming element
and sometimes the loneliness that overtakes
and even the feelings of confusion
i absolutely love ireland
i list off the few negative elements, because in truth every negative in fact is only a blur of a a deeper positive, a distortion of a deeper good. is there really an evil? i believe all things are good and when we see evil... that evil is only a privation of a more present light.
because in truth the passive aggressive component can teach me a lesson to gentleness.
the fact that people often are more reserved shows a beautiful element of mystery.
the distance between my country and your country illustrates respect for homeland, and history, and tradition.
and the lonely attitude only comes at times. and again i'll iterate that loneliness is also only a distortion of good. it is only a truth that I am forced to spend time in solitude. and should i truly run from myself? No. the solitude is necessary and most often i embrace it fully (or at least attempt).
confusion only results from my presence in another country. i compare and contrast. i compare the incomparabe nature of africa to the incomparable nature of ireland. and i expect clarity? In fact it is again blurry when i begin to compare. there are indeed similarities but the strongest is that truth that within each country is humanness. each individual i encounter is human. how, then, can i compare? countries that are composed of people, all existing within uniqueness.
so we have driven through green pastures. sheep are as cottonballs, floundering about on green lands. cows are adorable and everywhere. horses run wildly at times. i walk through cities as well and find people from everywhere. i hear languages amidst other languages and people pass by.
dublin is interesting. a big city full of history and past, yet also people. people running everywhere doing everything. i stick to the statement that you've seen one city and you've seen them all, but that would in fact erase the unique definition of dublin. i love it. and pubs are public houses. hard to find an authentic one in dublin because they are made to create satisfaction for tourists, yet i have indeed found what i'd love to call authentic.
just the other day i escaped the group setting after attending a catholic mass, rich in historical nature. the glass windows of color and the sunshine shedding in. the angelic hymns surrounding. vocals, prayers in unison. Dad always said "Stand up Sit down FIght! FIght! FIght!" I still agree, Pops, but it is quite intriguing, isn't it? people from all walks of life reciting verses together. Even though I cannot agree with all that is Catholic, I can much approve of the setting. I felt so heavy. the weight of centuries gently on my shoulders.
and after mass, as I said, I wandered alone. My journal, myself, and I, in this beautiful city called Galway.
i wandered throughout the city finding local housing and universities. and suddenly I asked for guidance... asking the spirits? the angels? the God? Whatever it was, I suddenly heard music from a nearby door. There were old men playing and singing and hyming irish music. I met a German girl. 23 and travelling throughout Ireland. It is these interactions that I live for... the interactions where human being meets human being. In my independence I find connection. And apparently this is the best pub in all of Galway.
and I love this place. We have seen ruins amidst hills and abbeys and I have ran along cliffs toward ancient rubble.
i cannot help but compare what I already know, thinking of africa and home.
and while there are challenges, this journey is beautiful.
just one night left in galway.
tomorrow is belfast.
and a few days from now we head to scotland.
i love you dear family and friends.
I thank the Lord for this opportunity, for these next few months of human exploration, and I ask that you feel my love.
_megh
05 May 2009
Dublin or Portland?
So today we arrived after transit.
Wandered about beautiful Dublin. Quite remniscent of Portland with its gray sky and little patches of sun and entertaining people and colorful buildings and green green lands/
feels like home.
today has been a bit of wandering about.
Looked at the Ancient book of kells (beautiful and ornate) at Trinity College.
TOok a wondrous nap.
A warm shower.
THen wandered around in solitude until I found a nice little pub.
It is a local pub because I was only surrounded by Irish accents and old Irish men/ felt as though I was in a movie... too damn good to be true.
"would ye like a Shepard's pie? Its mee favorit."
"The Fokin horse races..."
"Oh, fok's sake/"
How I thrive off of this atmosphere :)/
Already challenges exist, but mostly I sit in peace. It is nice. And heartwarming. And my hostel of yellow walls and red curtains is comforting.
I love the contours of traditionally irish faces... although Ireland is indeed an assemblage of people.
I am happy and I am thinking of you.
Another day in DUblin until we further our way toward Scotland.
"But your solitude will be a hold and a home for you even amid very unfamiliar conditions and from there you will find all your ways."
Rilke
Letters To a Young Poet.
So these words rest with me in my summer solitude.
Wandered about beautiful Dublin. Quite remniscent of Portland with its gray sky and little patches of sun and entertaining people and colorful buildings and green green lands/
feels like home.
today has been a bit of wandering about.
Looked at the Ancient book of kells (beautiful and ornate) at Trinity College.
TOok a wondrous nap.
A warm shower.
THen wandered around in solitude until I found a nice little pub.
It is a local pub because I was only surrounded by Irish accents and old Irish men/ felt as though I was in a movie... too damn good to be true.
"would ye like a Shepard's pie? Its mee favorit."
"The Fokin horse races..."
"Oh, fok's sake/"
How I thrive off of this atmosphere :)/
Already challenges exist, but mostly I sit in peace. It is nice. And heartwarming. And my hostel of yellow walls and red curtains is comforting.
I love the contours of traditionally irish faces... although Ireland is indeed an assemblage of people.
I am happy and I am thinking of you.
Another day in DUblin until we further our way toward Scotland.
"But your solitude will be a hold and a home for you even amid very unfamiliar conditions and from there you will find all your ways."
Rilke
Letters To a Young Poet.
So these words rest with me in my summer solitude.
30 April 2009
that's a wrap! and we won.
we won the scion competition.
and for that I am happy.
http://www2.947.fm/photos/gallery/60.
i still have 10 pages left and a billion art things/
and for that I am a zombie.
but alas, summer is near.
(granted it is raining outside...)
and for that I am happy.
http://www2.947.fm/photos/gallery/60.
i still have 10 pages left and a billion art things/
and for that I am a zombie.
but alas, summer is near.
(granted it is raining outside...)
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