Posted by: mdmusingsie | March 1, 2013

Reflecting in Galway

I was back in Galway for a few days for the first formal public reading of my written work.  I’d read at the open-mic on a few occasions, and at the fiction slam, but this was my first (and hopefully not last) 15 minutes of fame.

I considered it an honor to be asked to speak at the Over the Edge monthly Open Reading; especially considering the wealth of literary talent in Galway and all over Ireland.   (A big thank you to Susan Millar-DuMars and Kevin Higgins for not only the invitation, but their support, encouragement, and coaching as I continue to blossom as a writer.  Buíochas, chomh maith, to the summer poets Caitríona, Mo and Mirriam, plus Martina who came down from Athlone and braved the open-mic, for their friendship and support.)

One of three featured readers, I was joined by Ruth Quinlan, who I’ve come to know through poetry workshops and literary events, a fellow IT slave (we must pay the bills somehow) and writer of very touching prose and often humorous poetry; as well as author, actress, playwright, and genuinely lovely person, Mia Gallagher, who brought a very touching story literally to life with her performance.  Oddly, all three of us read pieces that touched on similar themes of parent/child relationships and losing a parent.  It couldn’t have been planned to overlap so perfectly.

Over the Edge February 2013 Open Reading

Over the Edge February 2013 Open Reading

Whilst in Galway, I walked similar paths that I’d covered close to a hundred times before, but after being gone a mere three weeks, I was already starting to feel more like a visitor than the resident I had so recently been. On my way to meet a fellow poet for lunch, I met another poet I’d come to know, and then on my way to the hotel, passed another.  It struck me that in Galway, after over a year, I could actually walk the streets and pass people I knew.  Now I would be starting that process over again, in greater Dublin – walking streets full primarily of strangers.

Being near the ocean is one of the things I miss most, as I took a walk in the sand, oblivious to the rivulets of water left by the outgoing tide that were seeping into the hems of my pants.  I stood on the mound near the famine memorial in Salthill, overlooking Galway Bay, where I’d stood so many times, gazing out over the landscape, praying to anyone who would listen to help me find a way to put down permanent roots in this mystical land. I spied daffodils already in bloom (the ones in my area have yet to exit their shells). I strolled along South Park, a path I’d trod many times per week, feeling again, a sad sense of temporariness.  I watched more swans preening for tourists in the lovely way that they can.  I walked wistfully down the cobbled street at the heart of the city. Lastly, sighing, as I crossed Eyre Square to board the bus back to my new home.

Galway Daffodils

Galway Daffodils

Galway preening swans

Galway preening swans2


  1. Lovely post Dawn 🙂

  2. I do enjoy your musings. Thank you and congratulations.

    • Thanks for coming along on my ride, so to speak 🙂

  3. Congratulations on your first(?) moment in the spotlight.

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