It’s only been 3 real days but it feels like a lot longer. Days go slow here — mainly because it’s light out until 10/10:30. Mornings are about class and afternoons are different each day.
Today, John and I had lunch at Reardens and then walked around the city centre until we had to meet Steve’s class at the Crawford Art Museum.
Dinner is with the gang every night and it’s my favorite part of the day, eating and drink, and talking — mostly MFA gossip but also about Irish people and the books we’re reading.
Tomorrow we’re going to the Aran Islands, that place I felt in my bones, to bring myself to it again. To sit on the edge of the cliffs and feel invincible. Oh, Atlantic! What is it about desolation and isolation that’s so fascinating to me.
What to write about for Nancy’s class, the idea of the past and not wanting to write about history. My history? Perhaps if nothing clicks on Aran tomorrow, I should take a bus to Castletownbere and write about that first time.
Castletownbere — What we remember when we travel, we don’t remember the names of places.
The Atlantic was freezing the night we decided to skinny dip.