Land of Ire

I’m headed to Ireland, and taking an extended trip into England, Belgium, and Switzerland. Originally, I planned to make a new website or blog of my journeys, but that never felt right. I did that when I went to Australia eleven years ago, creating a personal blog of my inner and outer journeys. I’m not sure these times are right for that kind of introspection. This journey feels too personal, and I’m a bit tired of writing about myself.

Ireland is the land of my mother’s family, and Belgium is where my father got injured in the Battle of the Bulge. My mother was the dancer and artist, and my father the warrior and DoD bureaucrat. Most of my family don’t see that I took after my mom while they took after my dad—war-making and ‘bizness thinking’ trumped artistry and wonder. Maybe some accounts of my travels will find their way into this blog, maybe not. I don’t want to be caught up in filing a ‘report’ because that’s no way for an arts guy to go though life.

Lately, I’ve had some ire coming up connected to past events. It feels like some long past things taking their final leave of me. I feel like I am wasting away at times, like I’ve cast too wide of a net or I’m a bit all over the place. So I’m going to go be a bit all over the place. On the other side of these travels I imagine that something new awaits. How much can four weeks on the road alone in strange lands free a person?

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