I love Dublin's Georgian architecture. There's such beauty in these proportions, in the simplicity and symmetry of Georgian facades. But it's about more than the individual homes; they're often laid out in squares around the loveliest of city parks. And much as I dream about the elegant proportions of Georgian living rooms, I also dream about the street and park life there could have been in these squares. I think that must be the mark of great city planning (modern Dublin architecture does not elicit this inside/outside reaction nearly as much).
When I stayed at The Merrion, I got to see the south side of Merrion Square from behind. It's quite something to see how the flat unity of the front facades is broken at the back. Even excluding the modern additions, there are deviations that would date back to the original build. I find it fascinating to think of Georgian homeowners demanding their quirks be pandered at the back of the house, while falling in line with the shared sensibility at the front.
Of course, not all of Georgian Dublin is beautifully preserved. And sad as some of the ruined grandeur can be, it's nice to look in windows and see interiors being restored. And it's nice to look in other windows and see time itself take hold and see beauty in there can be in decay.
Today, I fell really hard for the illustrations of Dublin artists Denise Nestor. Her animal illustrations, especially the "wreaths", evoke the same feelings as Peregrine Honig's The Twin Fawns, which I shared here. You can also follow Denise's blog here. Seriously beautiful work.
On Friday, I took off for the west coast with my friend Kirsten. We hadn't planned a single thing and even as we hit the motorway, I was saying "Cork! No no, Galway!" And in that way that holidays sometimes are when left blissfully unplanned, our jaunt turned into something pretty special.
Trips west are most often about landscape and sea. That's certainly been my agenda before (here and here and here). We didn't do that though. We booked ourselves a table at Aniar in Galway, drank champagne and ate one of the most mind-blowing meals I've ever experienced, including a dessert of beetroot and rose parfait, hazelnut praline, sorrel. The entire experience was perfection.
Really amazing food just makes you think and talk about other memorable food experiences. So, we decided to get up the next day and head to Cork for lunch in Cafe Paradiso. I've eaten there before and loved it, and it didn't disappoint a second time.
We got back to Dublin in the late afternoon and I booked myself into The Merrion. There's something deliciously selfish about staying in a hotel when you don't need to and I've always fantasized about The Merrion. My suite was utter luxury and I went for a sunset walk around Merrion Square in all its Georgian splendour, before coming back for a long hot soak and king-sized sleep.
When I come home to Ireland, it's so often about the heaving sea, the rugged beauty, the patina. It was nice to have a few days exploring and indulging in flavours more delicate and refined... things that really rise above the everyday. And while I'd never want to normalize those things so that I no longer noticed how special they are, there truly is beauty in experiencing rich brocade of everything.
Finally, because it's Bloomsday today, a picture of the Rowan Gillespie Joyce sculpture from the courtyard of The Merrion:
I'm off to the west coast for the weekend, so just popping in to say hello and goodbye!
Some things I read and saved this week:
- “I worry that the closer the world gets to our fingertips, the further it gets from our hearts.” - Jonathan Safran Foer.
- Beautiful shots from Nicole Franzen make me wish I was shooting (and processing and printing) from film more lately, though they wouldn't be this beautiful by a long country mile.
- I have a quiet obsession with forgotten things. I suppose I find it's comforting somehow to know that there's greatness to still unearth, and it makes this whole popularity thing more plainly about timing, that magical synchronicity between artist and audience than alone about any Platonic ideal of greatness. I want to read this.
Have a good weekend! I'll return with Atlantic pictures to share.
Yesterday, I strolled with Mum and Dad around Ardgillan Castle. It's not at all an old castle, built in 1738, but the setting is pretty spectacular and the gardens and demesne beautiful. We had tea and scones on the patio afterwards and Mum and Dad bought me a painting from an exhibition that was being hosted inside. The heatwave we've had since I arrived was starting to break... Dare I say that Ireland looks better with some wind in her hair?
