Dancing with Myself/ Rocky Road

In the time since I flew into Dublin, I have experienced nasty jet lag, the best guinness (poured by ME), the best cheese, and the lightest yet most changable weather. I have learned that saving money is important, but being hypoglycemic offers no real choice as far as "should I eat?" or should I not eat and feel close to fainting.

There's much creative and intellectual stimulus here, and I'm sure much more will follow in the coming days. The doors are all colored the brash and lovely colors of my thought process and overall countenance: Bananna Yellow, Fire Engine Red, Ice Cream wrapper blue, and Deep swathing, tempermental Green. Growing green. I feel beautiful and unknown and quiet and knowing, I feel like I'm already learning so much and that there's only more to learn. The smell here is the strong but quiet smell of a new rain, all the time.

Also, my moleskine has been invaluable as far as helping me and others find places, and yet it doesn't make me appear to be a stupid bloody tourist. Perhaps it, like my hello kitty mirror and little stapler will make me friends.

Today we watched Rocky Road To Dublin, a film I'd never heard of, but that I thought was amazing and brilliant. And Irishman named Peter Lennon wrote/directed it, and Coutard, Godard's cameraman, filmed it. Never before have I been so struck by the power of the image, to defy words that are being spoke with it, to always show you the truth, even if the truth is disguised, and to be arranged in such a way that you understand why filmmaking is an art, and not just a commercial venture. It's ironic that one of the many irish critics of the movie (it was very contraversial) dubbed it "a film for the blind" when in fact it may as well have been made for the deaf! I can't wait till we discuss it tomorrow. when I'll probably write more in depth about it.

Tonight we're watching a contraversial play, Terminus, which I am very excited, especially after Rocky Road, to see.
I don't know about the people in my program, it seems like many of them were asleep for the movie (somewhat understandably) and that while I was frantically and happily writing down notes and feeling my heart beat faster and faster with the anticipation of discussion, that everyone else was barely getting through, if at all. Perhaps this trip will reaffirm the disconnect I feel with many of my peers, the disconnect that hinges on the fact that learning and writing and reading all stir me up, and that drinking, promiscuity and material goods bore or disgust me. Or perhaps it will reassure what I already told my roommate this morning, when she decided that based on the way they looked, two girls would not be goodroommates and would fight.... Anybody can get along with anybody, if they actually try.
And this goes for loving too.