Done.

Well, it's happened: I am 3/4ths done with my undergraduate career. I gave my final presentation today in my Contemporary Irish Theatre class and have officially finished all required work for my junior year. My parents are on their way over in about 24 hours, and I couldn't be more excited to finish this incredible adventure with them. 

Where last week might have been defined as one of stress, this week has been one of nostalgia. This shouldn't be surprising to me, I suppose: The semester has been one of personal deepening and artistic growth, and I have been blessed with so many wonderful experiences while being here. I never took for granted the idea that this opportunity could be once in a lifetime, though now having experienced Ireland for the last five months I can safely say that there is no way that this country has seen the last of me. 

It's funny when visitors come to Dublin, because it takes a minute to think about what to "show" them. There is no Eiffel Tower, no Big Ben.  Seeing Dublin, and Ireland, takes a gradual enveloping. Gradual isn't even really the right word, because there's not really much of a progression. It just one day overtakes you: the people, their humor, their points of view. The restaurant that you begin to frequent, the directions that you find yourself giving. Even the theatre here is such an essential part of Dublin's collective that its founding authors are treated as saints, and its current up-and-comers are working to redefine a foundation they obviously revere. I'd say it was 'inspiring', but that word has such a fairy-tale, Slumdog Millionaire quality attachment to it. This is very real, understated. But it's really, really nice to be around -- whatever it is. 

What makes this city, this whole country, so unique to me are its individuals. They create a palpable heartbeat, diluting their undeniable kindness with an adorned pessimism that can only be compared to a die-hard Vikings fan. They have gotten the raw end of the deal so many times that, they figure, they might as well get used to it and laugh about it. To think that Ireland is the size of West Virginia is something that still blows me away. It is hard to imagine what America would be like if every state, every county, had such a unique identity, as it does in Ireland. It makes you feel like the world doesn't need to be that big to be significant. 

I have had some of my most memorable conversations while being here with cab drivers. I had taken on the mentality that conversations, smiles, and friendly glances were not universally accepted. I can't even remember the last time I got out more than my destination to my cabbie in New York -- or anyone on the subway for that matter. It's not like that here, and I am so incredibly grateful for that wake-up call. We're all trying to make sense of this together, and ultimately, we're all as clueless as the guy next to us. But there's a comfort in not being clueless by yourself, I guess. 

I still have a ways to go to shed these habits -- Kathleen noted while visiting that I  "never look up", that I'm always looking directly in front of me, and that I should "do that".  I really should. 

I recognize that everything is looking a little rosier this week -- as most things do, towards an end. But I believe that it's necessary to verbalize when one sees the world in sepia tone, because it's infectious. It really is; swine flu's got nothing on appreciation.  As advanced as medicinal treatment is destined to become, I hope that no one ever cures spring fever. It's too valuable.

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CHELSEA

 

Chelsea and her friend Alissa came to visit me for the weekend, two weekends ago now I guess, before kicking off an Italian adventure after ending their respective semesters in Spain. It was a very good time: seeing my wonderful cousin was just what I needed heading into the home stretch.

Top 5:

1. St. Steven's Green -- A beautiful day in the park. 
2. "Love & Money" by Dennis Kelly at the Project Arts Center -- The play is really something special and received three thumbs up from us.
3. Oysters and Guinness at the Temple Bar -- Maybe the best combination of two already amazing entities since David Bowie and Queen recorded "Under Pressure". The musician playing that afternoon made it all the better. 
4. Bar Hopping -- Hit the Stag's Head for an afternoon refreshment, The Cobblestone for some traditional music, Dice Bar for a little dancing, and Gogarty's to finish it all off. Wonderful in their own right, they made for a fun evening. 
5. The Dancing Man In the Middle Of Temple Bar -- aka Brian Lamb in 20 years.  

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Don't tell my parents, but I started looking into graduate programs this afternoon -- nothing wrong with looking, right? It started after my Contemporary Theatre professor told me about the Masters program at Trinity. The playwriting section is headed by Marina Carr, who wrote about half of the plays we saw this semester. It's a one-year program, a Masters in Philosophy in Theatre and Performance program, and it kind of made my mouth water. Then I sort of went crazy, looking into Yale, Juilliard, and the MFA Playwriting program at the University of Iowa, where Tennessee Williams is a boasted alum; I promise, this has a point. Anyway, I also looked into the Meisner Acting Technique school, a two-year training program in San Francisco. On the school's site, a quote from Sanford Meisner, which reads: 

“To be an interesting actor – hell, to be an interesting human being – you must be authentic and for you to ever be authentic, you can’t be concerned with what others think about you. In other words, you must embrace who you really are, warts and all so the real you can show up in life. Do you have any idea how liberating it is to make friends with yourself?”

Obviously the school knew it was a great quote, because they included it on the homepage. But the idea of becoming a more authentic human being is one that has underscored my train of thought over the course of this semester. There is a new calm in me, a heightened confidence. I have become less afraid to state my side of things, or to refrain from doing so. I am more independently my own person, I guess is a way of saying it (I almost made the mistake of saying 'self-sufficient', but let's not kid ourselves; that would have probably given my parents both heart attacks).  It is a proud accomplishment that I thought I might keep secret, but find myself sharing.

Being in a foreign country, with a new group of people... heck, even writing these entries, I find myself constantly editing, tinkering, and abstaining to create a version of myself that I wish to present. Little by little, though, I'm beginning to trust that, when I say what I feel, people respond to it. And it's such a release, you know? To say what you feel. 

So here it is: I feel so grateful to have been able to share this experience with all of you. I can't wait to catch up with everyone and to hear your stories. I'll see you very, very soon. 

Lots of love.  

Dylan