Dublin (Part 1)

Dublin (Part 1)

I have returned from my trip.

Darling Dublin, it was wonderful, for I am bored with life here now, there is no colour, no nourishment in it. And it’s not the few people who are very good and worth staying afloat for, and it’s not my house that I’ve conjured, can paint all the shades that are in me but the cold hard winter never ending, like a grey sea.

I survive, always, though my internal world still demands filling. Writing, the blog, painting, reading, decorating, vignetting, photographing, talking, dreaming, thinking yes, thank goodness, are still, not enough for the well.

Like the garden where even the richest, darkest soil will lose it’s richness if the crops are not rotated often I have lost something I feel will return with the spring.

Here, this time of year, you can’t depend on anything, on walks, or even school or as a new driver, driving, not even those freedoms, so here I am, rooted in darkness, craving light, culture, adventure and I would go anywhere, but then when the chance comes I am anxious, find it hard to go. That is how rooted I am and how far, like so many women, trying to bloom where we are.

And in the day or two before I left I wouldn’t, but I could have sabotaged myself. It all seemed so difficult. Why, is it so difficult? To untangle oneself? The children are no longer babies and though it’s been some years I have taken this train a thousand, no, ten thousand times. At the point of tears I think how the universe is conspiring to stop me, then I laugh, I know it is only me.

I was going now, to see my eldest daughter in a fashion show, to buy some new clothes, to fill the well, restore some sanity. The day I left was of course, mad.

Lists, phone calls, instructions…cleaning and leaving things just so, you know, in case I get hit by a bus, never get to come back. I’d already done a massive grocery shop, in case they all starve while I’m away.

Sadhbh tells me how much she will miss me and cups my chin. I tell everyone how much I love them. I feel guilty. I’m going for three days. You might think I’m crazy and though I agree, you probably only think that if you are not like me, if you are travelling, doing these simple things all the time, but I, I never leave my house.

Between home and the station I can’t breathe but on the train I read, May Sarton, I love her, we are kindred, I’ll tell you of her another time. Once in Dublin I’m breathing again, the air is good. It is already warmer than Leitrim though the next few days will be biting cold, I feel better.

My sister Martha, a teacher, stylist, a dancer, meets me, full of the joys of that spring I crave. We make our way through the old familiar streets without having to think, and ponder how I used to meet her off the train as a child, coming to me for a visit, and now we are going to see my child modelling. And though time flies I am not sad or even nostalgic because it feels right and I know I am more confident now, even if trips give me stage fright.

At the venue we’ve time, buy a bottle of wine and share the most wonderful talk, the kind that runs on in perfect sparking harmony, like a dance. We come together quickly in thought, then, still in synch move apart, before coming together again, it is perfect though short.

Seeing Shaylyn on the runway’s a thrill. I’m her mother so when she appears the world turns invisible. But she is unusual my girl, she has small features yet a high planed face and these green almond shaped eyes, shown now to dazzling effect, courtesy of lighting and a slicked back hairstyle.  She has started to inhabit herself. I always feel sorry for teens, the way they are not yet quite at home in their skin, but she will be twenty this year and has presence, you would notice her.

It’s Monday as I write this, we woke under a blanket of snow that’s falling heavy again now, beautiful, I hate it so.

The fire’s crackling and the house is quiet but, I have to go…

I’ll be back soon with the next installment of my trip to Dublin xox

shaylyn show

shaylyn show 1shaylyn show 2





5 thoughts on “Dublin (Part 1)”

  • Hello Jane! In reading what you have written, I can relate to your anxiety about traveling. I feel the exact same way. So much so that I often just stay home, or go to my mother’s house and back. Normally I am happy at home but the sameness can get to me after awhile and anxiety can be depressingly crippling. As for the weather where I live, we are in a serious drought so the winter doesnt last nearly long enough here. I have the opposite afliction, too much bright sun can make me cringe(if you can imagine!). Thats just because we have many long months of very hot weather and a horrible lack of rain. Ironically, its raining nicely as I write this! I am so greatful for it, its much needed, though it is keeping me from my walk, which keeps me sane! 🙂 Keep your chin up Jane, spring will soon come. You have a lovely house, are so talented and have a beautiful family! Many good wishes to you!!! <3

    • Aww Melissa, thank you. It is so nice of you to comment and so interesting to hear how it is with you. I guess too much of any kind of ‘sameness’ or weather is wearing, though it is rare we get too much sunshine! On the plus side I’m happy every morning whatever the weather but come afternoon this time of year I’m fed up again. As you say, spring will come soon, I can’t wait for it!!! It would be nice to have more opportunity to push myself out more. That might happen as the kids get older, until then I will have to keep smashing the sameness from within. Love to you and thanks again, lovely to hear from you : )

  • Hi Jane.. have read most of your blogs and they are truly wonderful. Your are such a talented and creative person. The darkness of winter can cover us in a blanket of never ending dreariness but spring and that extra lift we need is near.take care..keep up the great work. Anne x

  • Ah Jane, always pleased to vicariously flee with you to Dublin. Oh I’m sure I would notice her and her presence as Shaylyn begins “to occupy herself”. I again wonder how you feel about this path? And yes the snow is beautiful and have come to think of it as a four letter word. Love in boatloads to you stuck in winter too.

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