Mere Words

Posted on June 18, 2016 by aedwards54

So Karlee got this tattoo the other day and I was incredibly jealous (in a good way). I kept thinking about how, no matter what, Dublin will always be a part of her.

Our scars and tattoos tell the stories of our life for us. I have a scar on my face from where I was with my family at Boar’s Tusk, a format volcano a little ways from my hometown, and from that point on Boar’s Tusk became a little piece of my identity. And not completely in a bad way; the thing that I remember most from that day was the care and worry that my grandpa showed for me. The rash on my wrist (which I am trying to stop picking at, I promise) will likely scar, so Dublin will become a little piece of my story and it will exist in more than just my memory (I was going to use a picture of my wrist, but I decided that that would be unpleasant to view and for me to post on Instagram). I’m also hoping to get a tattoo while we are in Belfast (a much better reminder of Ireland than the scar). I’ve chosen to immortalize this place on my body.

Steps Followed Around a City

Posted on June 18, 2016 by kcarlson7

There are 14 bronze plaques on the streets of Dublin that identify a place where Leopold Bloom visits in Joyce’s Ulysses. The plaques exist physically in place, but also signify a fictive place. As we left the Archeology Museum, I cam me across one of these bronze plaques. On our free day, Sara and I meticulously planned a day that followed the tracks of Stephen Daedalus and Leopold Bloom–a Ulysses pilgrimage. We followed the footsteps of Daedalus in Sandycove, Sandymount, and Dalkey, pretending to dive into the Forty Foot, climbing up the Martello Tower, and walking into eternity on the Strand.

Later in the afternoon, we followed the steps of Bloom in the city. We bought lemon soap at Sweny’s Chemist on Lincoln Place, enjoyed gorgonzola sandwiches and burgundy at Davy Byrne’s (the combination does not complement one another by the way), and searched for a racy novel around Merchant’s Arch (aka. our own version of Ulysses). After our 13 miles of walking it was nice to relax at the Oval Bar for dinner (also mentioned in the novel).

We ended the night at an art and poetry party complete with swing dancing and big band music (not quite Edwardian, but still fun). One of my favorite parts of the evening was having a poem written for me. A poet was sitting at a typewriter with a sign that read “Fresh Poems.” After telling the poet about my day, he wrote a poem in about 15 minutes that perfectly captured my experience of Dublin and the concept of place. Here are the first lines of the poem: “Steps followed around a city / As though it were a map, / As though streets can hold stories / Steeped into the brick.”

Evolution of Place

Posted on June 17, 2016 by jjones248

Visiting a museum that displays artifacts from all over the world in multiple places of time is a great way to observe the evolution of place. The medieval time period for Ireland was filled with vicious Vikings who invaded the island in order to seek further control of European lands. Dublin was especially viewed as an advantageous area because of it’s access to resources and close proximity to the United Kingdom. I was surprised at how small the Viking ship display appeared because I had always envisioned massive boats charging into lands filled with natives who were brutally pillaged and torn from their homes. While I am still certain villagers feared the sight of these ships they were much similar to canoes designed by Native Americans in my opinion. The weaponry for Vikings was really brutal consisting of sharp pointed spearheads that seemed like they could do some real damage to your major arteries. It was really interesting to imagine a Viking hut existing in the exact place where I sleep at night on UCD campus, and how different the land must have looked when Vikings called it home. Walking through the Medieval Irish displays I instantly spotted the infamous harp that is a symbol across Irish culture to this day. Originating from Gaelic/Celtic culture this emblem is one of the oldest symbols from Irish history. After also having the chance to view the Book of Kells earlier on this trip, the Medieval Irish Exhibit helped tie together the history of Ireland and the clashing cultures/societies that occurred in the same place.

#dubbelgsu

Here

Posted on June 17, 2016 by aedwards54

I originally took this picture because I was joking with Karlee about her being a self-proclaimed “selfie queen”, so I decided to take my own selfie. The more I looked at the picture though, the more that I though that it could, been taken almost anywhere. This is silly, but it hasn’t occurred to me, or at least I had not fully realized, that I stay the same no matter where I am; it’s still me. I fell like over time I have created separate existences in my separate places, and it is always weird to me when they intermingle. I was messaging my partner earlier and I felt off, but I couldn’t figure out why, but I think that this is it. I hadn’t accommodated for them in this sphere of my existence. Whenever I am in Wyoming, I never think of my Georgia friends, and vice versa. But I am the same person. Right now I have a partner, and they exist in every sphere of my existence. I have a best friend that is not static in her place, but is also moving throughout time. My parents and sister will change and develop no matter my location. This is ridiculous, I know, but this is one of the moments where the world became more dynamic for me. I changed because of a selfie.

A Bloomsday Odyssey

Posted on June 17, 2016 by skeel4

Yesterday was Bloomsday, a date for great celebration in Dublin. Kristen and I planned a day filled with adventure, and in our attempt to follow Bloom’s footsteps, we designed our own 24 hour Odyssey (Well, technically 17 hour). We made things additionally hard on ourselves by trying to include events from both Leopold Bloom and Stephen Dedalus’ June 16th, 1904.

Telemachus

We started the day off in Sandycove. What a wonderful beginning! Walking through town, we were greeted by restaurants and stores decorated for the occasion. We also passed a group of children dressed in their Edwardian best who all wished a joyous “Happy Bloomsday!” There was an exciting air of festivity, and it gave me a deep appreciation for a city and nation that could celebrate a work of literature with such enthusiasm. At the Martello tower, we saw where Joyce stayed with St. John Gogarty, and where Ulysses was born. This is also the opening scene of the novel. From there we also visited the Forty Foot, a swimming place described in the novel. We didn’t swim, but we did exercise our right to be there. In Joyce’s time it would have been reserved exclusively for males, but a 1970’s “Attack of the Forty Foot Women” changed that.

Nestor

Next we walked in to Dalkey, the coastal town where Stephen Dedalus was a school teacher. We warmed up in a little restaurant called the End Note, where we exchanged ghost stories while sipping tea with milk, the way Buck Mulligan would have insisted it be done.

Proteus

After Dalkey, we took a Dart train in to Sandymount. Walking to and then navigating the train system was definitely a strenuous part of our odyssey. This, in fact, was not our first time in Sandymount that day. We had accidentally already been there once after getting on a train going in the wrong direction. This time, however, it was our actual destination. We walked in to town, where we happened to be arriving just in time for a presentation of 6 skits from Ulysses. We watched Stephen walk blindly down the strand, Leopold shop for liver and explain to Molly the definition of “metempsychosis,” Bloom and Dedalus stumble drunkenly towards home, and Molly recall the day she agreed to marry Leopold (“Yes!”). After the presentation, we went to the Sandymount Strand ourselves. The tide was out, and it was an amazing place. One can perhaps not understand Stephen’s walk “into eternity” without seeing the strand itself. The packed sand stretches out almost as far as the eye can see, merging with the water and the the horizon off in the distance. I also walked along with my eyes closed, listening to the world around me. In some ways, it was similar to what Dedalus would have heard: the wind through the grass, the far off crashing of waves; but my experience was modified by the cars whooshing past and the sounds of construction not far off. When I opened my eyes and discovered that the world was still there, I saw winding roads, towering cranes, and far in the distance a carrier ship. At first it made me think that my experience was less authentic because there was more man-made interference, but it is not so much interference as the reality of my unique experience, instead of a failed recreation of Dedalus’.

There was much, much more to the day, but this was perhaps my favorite part. It is also one of my favorite parts in the book (not just because it comes early on, either).

“Open your eyes now. I will. One moment. Has all vanished since? If I open and am for ever in the black adiaphane. Basta! I will see if I can see.

See now. There all the time without you: and ever shall be, world without end.”

That certainly wasn’t the end of our day, but it is the end of this one! More adventures to come!

Global Art

Posted on June 17, 2016 by skeel4

Today I had the opportunity to visit the National Gallery. I really enjoyed my earlier visit to the Hugh Lane and today to the National Galleries. The art in this city is amazing. Dublin had a huge boom in the arts at the end of the 19th century and beginning of the 20th. This is my very favorite time period for all artistic mediums, so there is a lot here for me to enjoy. Both the art galleries that we have visited have had on display some amazing pieces by Irish painters. I have especially liked the works of Jack Yeats, W.B. Yeats’ younger brother, and Paul Henry, a post-impressionist landscape artist.

There is an interesting balance in the galleries between Irish works and other european artists. There is certainly an emphasis on painters from Ireland that I have found refreshing and that is sometimes not found in other galleries in other cities. However, I also find interesting the pride the gallery takes in its other european works. For example, the National Gallery has a nice collection of paintings from the Dutch school, including a Vermeer. In the gift shop, I found a lovely bookmark with “Irish National Gallery” printed on it, along with a reproduction of the Vermeer painting. The Dutch school of painting has a very distinct look and is linked to a distinct place. I find it interesting, then, that they chose this piece of art to include on the bookmark. Of course a Vermeer would be expensive, and for a gallery to own one is something to advertise. But it seems strange to me that this would be a greater point of pride for the gallery than the excellent work done by Dubliners and Irish painters. Which is more impressive for a National Gallery, owning an expensive piece of art that has no connection to the nation or an exquisite but under appreciated artist from that place?

Paul Henry from national gallery.ie

Jack B Yeats, image from nationalgallery.ie

Vermeer, Lady Writing a Letter, image from national gallery.ie

Free is the way it should Be

Posted on June 17, 2016 by jjones248

One of my favorite parts of this day that was filled with museums, good food and company was the Museum of Natural History. Sandwiched between two massive buildings, the entrance is setback from the road with a green space that displays hedge ornaments, preluding what awaits inside. When I walked in and passed through the two double doors I was instantly surrounded by stuffed dead things and it was awesome! The first floor makes its way from enormous deer skeletons down to the smallest creatures that dwell the ocean. Large sharks hang from the ceiling and baby one’s rest inside blue jars that magnetize their baby shark face So you can really see all the details. You aren’t disappointed after exploring the first floor, but the real gems of this museum reside upstairs. A combination of full homo sapien and primate skeletons greet you at the top of the stairs and just past this case are all of the largest land mammals just inches from your face. Never would I think I could look a polar bear, tiger and lion in the eye (in one day) and live to tell the tale. I snapped a few pictures of a cat skeleton, the part of my feline friends I did not expect to see in Ireland and a display of half a human brain. These were two of my favorite displays because both are prominent parts of my life I never thought I’d get to see The gory details of. The best part about this whole museum experience is the fact that it was completely free. I can’t imagine living in a city where you have free access to education and the cultures that make up our world.

#dubbelgsu

Shared Places: Cabin & Beans

Posted on June 17, 2016 by kcarlson7

In his poem “Lake Isle of Innisfree,” W.B. Yeats writes “a small cabin build there, of clay / and wattles made: / Nine bean-rows will I have there” (lines 2-3). When I read this poem again for class, I couldn’t help thinking of the similarities between these lines and Henry David Thoreau’s Walden, where Thoreau builds a small cabin in the Concord woods. Like Yeats’ “bean-rows,” Thoreau details his attempts to grow and harvest beans in “Bean-fields.” I was curious to the connection between Yeats’ poem and Thoreau’s Walden.

When I explored the Yeats exhibit at the National Library, I found Yeats’ copy of Walden in a display case. Although I was annoyed that the exhibit spelled Thoreau’s name “Henri,” I will thrilled to see this copy not only because it relates to my academic interests, but it also enlightened me of the place connection between the two writers. It was a serendipitous moment for me to stumble upon a piece of Thoreau in a Yeats exhibit in Dublin (especially considering some of his negative depictions of Irish immigrants).

Both Thoreau and Yeats portray an idealized place-a secluded house surrounded by nature and simplicity. Where Yeats’ place exists in his “heart’s core,” Thoreau experienced this place first hand. However, it is interesting that both works have similar images of a place. How do two different writers share a place or the idea of a place? We have discussed this notion of shared places in class, but I’m also interested in the shared places of Yeats and Thoreau. It seems like Yeats’ image of the cabin and beans directly references Thoreau’s Walden and his project to “live deliberately;” but why? I’m looking forward to further exploring Yeats, Thoreau, and their shared place.

Mean, Green Nineteen

Posted on June 16, 2016 by jshinholser1

Green Nineteen is one of the best restaurants I’ve ever eaten at. A locally produced ingredients based restaurant, Green Nineteens off kilter, creative reinterpretation of classic food s like cheese burgers and onion rings blew me away. Their vegetables were imbued with the warmth of having been freshly plucked from under a rare warm and sunshiney Dublin day, and they were ripe to perfection. This blog post isn’t going to focus on the food quality of what I strongly suspect is a contender for best restaurant in Dublin, however. It will instead focus on the way food informs my understanding of place and my place in place.

Every time I move to a new place, I know there will be one specific food that in going to miss. Whether it’s from a particularly good restaurant or a combination of unique local ingredients, there’s always something that I’ll miss enormously. In Burlington, Vermont, for instance, there’s an all-night sandwich shop near the edge of Church Street in Burlington, Vermont. I get powerful cravings for their Cajun Chicken Philly Cheeseseteaks. I crave, at times, the Croque Madames of Paris, and at other times the biscuits and red-eye gravy of my native Appalachias. Whenever I think of a place, I think of its food first, and there seems to be something in food, I think, that reveals the soul of a place. The rules of place often seem to be outlined by the rules of places’ foods and getting to the heart of place can be done most pleasurably through food.

I am?

Posted on June 16, 2016 by aedwards54

I’m the oldest kid of two parents who went through really horrid childhoods, so I was constantly trying to be better than I was. This would be a good thing if I had known when to stop, but I hadn’t, so I just saw what was faulty. When I think about what aspects that I got from other people, I seem to focus only on the negative. I got a bad temper from my dad; my grandfather gave me his arrogance; my mom made me untrusting; all of them passed on to me their want for addiction. It wasn’t until this last few months that I started to analyze the great aspects that they gave to me too. My dad taught me that if it isn’t my business, then I need to back off; my grandpa taught me to try everything, even if I’m not great at it (or terrible even); my mom gave me an open mind. I am a massive conglomerate of all that is around me, but this is my greatest strength. I have the power to learn and adapt.

A Tale of Two Cities: Dublin and Belfast Study Abroad

8-23 June, 2016

Monthly Archives: June 2016