Writting Weapon


I have been writing a lot less lately as I explained. For whatever reasons, not only here on this blog, but outright I’ve written remarkably little in the past four months. Over the last few weeks I’ve been slowly trying to dig myself out of this period of inactivity. It kind of clicked whilst going over my recent whinge that using my blog is the ideal way to help me.

image

There’s still the constant concern that it will be another drain on my attention while I should be focusing elsewhere, but I think I need this now. I need to refocus and I need to think differently than I have been thinking. There’s needs to be more than the be all and end all. I need to think about more than just me.

I scribbled a few things down which I liked, and I figured let me put them here and see what the internet thinks.

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Seanie slapped me across the puss

And said would you come away from

Yourself you goon you’re all there

I can feel you tingling on my fingertips

from the belt I just dealt you pull your

head away from that noose and do me

a favour and just write something even

if it’s just you whining about not writing

with little or no excuse other than

you’re havent been enclined to.

*

This is a city of hi-vis. Hi-vis and earthy tones. A thousand shades of stone. Words in lights. Red-crossed zones. Tricolours illuminated. Fleshed. Bones. Buses home.

Dublin entering that perpetually about to start to rain stage of year.

Bicycles will be removed. Drops on the stainless steel. Mottled shape shoulders and a bus facade. Cold to touch but who would know?

Troubadour opens his door. Yer all wet ye are says he, not up O’Connnell Street, down the quays. A 46A or 38. A siren sings his door closed.

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That’s it. I thought I had more. Must be writing too many job application letters* or something.

More to come me hopes.

People have the their own problems to worry about. You don’t need to hear about mine.


That’s a very moody sounding title for a blog post, isn’t it?

I’ll try to be brief. It’s pushing four months since I returned to Ireland after the long jaunt in Korea. There’s probably a lot to say about it but I’ve felt kind of pent up and not comfortable saying to much lately. I’m going to blame my circumstances in private but pretend everything is rosy on the outside. Despite this things are kind of rosy, as it is good to be back in Ireland, and while some things could be better there are plenty of people in this country suffering a lot more than I.

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Maybe I’m just battling against the former cushy lifestyle that I had in Korea, and the familiarity of living in the same home for over three years – something myself and Herself hadn’t done since we left our family homes some years before. Living in Ireland is very different of course, and the costs are always one of the first places you feel this. Learning to adapt to deal with these costs is its own challenge.

 

 

All three photos taken looking east from Capel Street Bridge, Dublin

Before we lived off credit cards essentially, where they would function as bank cards most of the time, but now we live off hard cash. So if there’s no cash in the bank, or indeed the pocket, there is no longer the long finger to rely on. This is both an advantage and a disadvantage, but you’re likely to be an adult so you can work out the problems yourself. I can feel the restrictions but I’m kind of glad there we’re no longer juggling bank balances.

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One of the biggest differences is where we live. Of course you’ll be familiar with the view from the twentieth floor, that spot from where our apartment looked out over Suwon and caught the sun reclining over haze and high-rise on so many evenings. The apartment wasn’t tiny by Korean standards but it certainly wasn’t large.

Compare it to where we live now. Our kitchen is almost as big, and certainly longer than our apartment, there are three bedrooms which are all much bigger. We have a separate sitting room, and a dining room a family could be comfortable residing in. But the real coup de grace is the garden, which is not only equipped with mature growth, a green house, walnut and fig trees, but it’s also massive. Of course I can’t be entirely happy – maintaining this space is a full time job in itself, or so it feels.

New skyline view from the garden

I should add that we were very fortunate to have this situation. The house is definitely not mine, it was my grandfather’s and after he passed away last year the house became vacant. Part of the reason we came back to Ireland so hurriedly – I suppose – was because we knew that we had this place to move into. Myself and Herself are grateful for the support of both our family’s, without whom this move would have been impossible. It is still a work in progress but at least there is some progress being made somewhere.

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Some time back I decided to focus my career fully on education, or at least education related. This decision came after a lot of thought and frustration, but one penny that did drop told me that I had been working quite enjoyably in education since 2005, so why stop now? There are a number of reasons why I would stop, namely a lack of jobs and generally lower salaries, but a reason I’ll continue is that I’m kind of good at what I do I think, and I kind of love learning myself.

This focus has made the transition to Ireland easier I suppose, in that I don’t mind teaching English for a living and when we came back in the summer there was no shortage of quality teaching opportunities. This is less the case now, but if anything the lack of work is a strong impetuous to get me up of my arse and find a proper job. There’s plenty out there, but I suppose it’s just a question of finally connecting the hammer with the nail, a skill I have a tendency to lack I believe.

Regardless of that, having to work in the city centre has been something I’ve missed. I am espcecially fond of those pre-work walks across the river, through Temple Bar and from there beyond. There are tiny features and so many sounds that even if you listened you would miss the majority.There is bustle and a hush on seemingly always rain damp streets no more than a minute apart. I feel I almost recognise every face. Town is a remedy in itself where I can daydream my way through the streets and imagine something.

Dublin city streets of an early morning

All that being said, if you’d like to offer me a job I’m more than willing to hear you out.

I had planned this post to be one where I wouldn’t rant on about my circumstances. I had imagined a later post in my life that would divy out the entire insipid unemployment fueled rant, but it seems that a genuine desire just to write something has countered any major veins of negativity. I’ve tried here to at least be honest while at the same time not bore you with melodramatics of a new life in my home country, as it has certainly been far from that. We’ve been enjoying it here, but it’s not without it’s occasional speed-bump. But we knew this was going to be the case so it’s hardly news.

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I’m keen to get back blogging regularly. I miss the attention, the fun of finishing a draft, the nervous wait for the view count the rise, and the sudden vibration and tinkle on my phone as a comment or like comes through. But I’ve been a bit at a loss for things to say, which is a poor excuse for someone as loquacious as I.

If there’s anything you’d like to hear my waffle on about or if you’d like a topic analysed as only I can, or even photographs of a particular place or theme from Dublin please drop a comment in below.

From the top of Google HQ in Dublin

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The photographs in this post were all taken over the past couple of months in Dublin. These days I’ve ditched my old iPhone 4 and and am now touting a HTC One M8, which is very lovely indeed (maybe there’s an idea for a new blog post…)

#citygram


You won’t be surprised to hear that I’m still Instagramming away. The topic has changed, of course, and as has my user ID. Seeing as I’m no longer in Korea being Conzie in Korea just didn’t seem right, so after a night of brainstorming and the convening of a focus group I decided that the best name for my Instragram efforts was…

*drum roll*

*cymbal*

conzieinireland

*applause*

Pretty clever, right? Don’t all rush to praise me at once.

I also have a new phone with a better camera, but that’s nowhere near as important.

I’m still sticking with the black and white theme, because I like it. Some have called for colour but I’m holding out on that for the time being. Monochrome is my gimmick, and it seems to suit Dublin well, which is what my theme seems to be mostly made of.

Most shots are taken on the walk to or from work, and I suppose if you know this city you can trace which way I take.

Here are a few of my favourites over the past month.

Dublin sky
First shot back.
From Capel Street Bridge.

When I get to the bottom I go back to the top
When I get to the bottom I go back to top.
From Temple Bar.

All but half past two in the Dublin afternoon.
All but half past two in the Dublin afternoon
From Henry Street.

Dublin Gothica
Dublin Gothica
From Dame Street

People watchers place
People Watchers Place
From South William Street

Coppinger Row 8am
Coppinger Row 8AM
From South William Street

Parliament Street
Parliament Street
From Capel Street Bridge

Laneway lines
Laneway Lines
From somewhere in Temple Bar

Life is better on the outside.
Life is better on the outside
From the Little Museum of Dublin, St. Stephen’s Green.

City life
City Life
From Dame Lane

Please follow the links to the photos, give them a like if you think they’re worth it, and sure you could also give me a follow if you really thought I was worth it.

Let me know which ones you like in the comments, and don’t forget to share your own IG ID too!

 

Letter to Korea, August 2014


Dublin, Ireland
August 2014

Dear Korea,

I may not make a habit of this, but I thought considering our long affair together the least you deserve is an update on life without you. You know, it has been almost two months since I arrived back ‘home’ in Ireland and you seem further away than ever before. This is not the first time we have been separated for a long period, but always I had that return flight date lingering in the back of my mind. Such a comfort does not exist now.

Perhaps it is significant that I write this today, me who has kind of gone off writing this kind of thing, because it is the day when I receive my last pay cheque from my old work in Korea. In some respects I can look at it as the ending of what was another era for me, although I would laud it with such praise very reluctantly. The period of time for such an era to exist has merely concluded but all who existed beforehand continue on living in Korea regardless of whether or not I am there. Ireland is equally unperturbed by my return.

I was expecting more culture shock but have been lucky so far. The benefits have balanced pleasantly against the expected problems. Having a garden and a job to arrive to have made things much easier on me and my family. Family are nearby, as are friends, and there is a seemingly never ending quantity of tasty cake supplying cafes in the city centre which I seem to find myself in frequently on the way home from work. We discover new things daily and look forward as optimistically as possible to each new challenge the rest of the week brings us.

It may well be the honeymoon period, as arguably I’m still on my summer holidays. Today it rained like December and there was a bus strike. We went to the supermarket and again scratched our heads as to why raw prawns were so hard to find. They aren’t really hard to find obviously, they’re just playing second fiddle to cooked ones. A bit like the sunshine does with the rain, and in terms of fiddling about with transport I can’t fail to mention how much I miss my kyotung card, or transfer card. The so-called leap card is more a stumble along moderately well provided you don’t ask too much of it card.

Today as I taught a class I asked the students to write ten things about themselves, be it physical or emotional, and from here they had to let fellow classmates guess what each thing meant and then they would explain. The idea was to enable them to become confident talking about themselves and their emotions, I think. I gave myself as an example, which is something I probably do too often.

One thing that I wrote I wrote on the board as is ‘old is new’. I had been pacing the classroom trying to come up with things to include as part of my list. I looked out onto South William Street and up Clarendon Street from my classroom and in the distance I could make out the heads bobbing back and forth. There was the great debris of Grafton Streets midday traffic. It was in this part of town where I had worked just before I left for Korea nine years previously, and it was around here that I had spent many days and indeed nights. I don’t think I had spent as much as others but I remembered the streets fondly, almost nostalgically.

It got me thinking about each morning when I walked to the school where I teach. As I walked from Ormond Quay up to South William Street I was having this new feeling of being  new to a city, of being here for the first time. I had that blinkered feeling that ignored the normality brought about by familiarity, the same kind of bland taste you get from the same journey to work every day for a year. I was making a subconscious effort not to recognise what essentially looked exactly the same as before I left the city when I was only 23.

It’s not that everything is new. Perhaps it is seeing everything renewed. The old familiarity I had with Dublin hasn’t gone. I walk around and drive around the city and find my way with relative ease. I know where places and, for the most part, the quickest way to get to them. I stare a little longer in wonder than I used to, and I still hope that sooner or later myself and Herself can finally get a chance to regular sample all the delights our new home has to offer.

But that can’t be everything about living. Those grey walls will lose their lustre soon. The chance to be human will be removed and we will feel like more numbers but on a different chart. Herself waits for me through the long mornings to come home from work. It can’t be easy. I worry that what work I have will not be enough to live on. So much has depended on generousity to date. Consider it a metaphor that the tomatoes planted in our greenhouse will soon be dead and we shall be left to find fresh fruit elsewhere.

We sit and we wait for the ruthless nature of what is clearly a beast that only welcomes those working. The safety net that my teaching job in Korea provided and which we ridiculed for its unrealistic nature has finally been removed at our request. Now as we tumble as gracefully as our naive frames will allow us to fold in positions for safety expecting the thump of landing, I wonder will this next year be as challenging as we are expecting? Or will it be something else?

 

 

 

 

Relearning to Read in 2014


So many things change, so much remains the same. New media has presented so many new challenges in all aspects of our lives but perhaps where we are effected most is how we digest written text. It is a constantly changing environment and due to the speed of change a status quo has yet to be established. The way we read has changed at such a remarkable pace in the past decade that there is nothing to say that this process is complete. A full revolution has yet to be completed and within the fulcrum of this change the very way we live our lives is being effected.

I was reading a medium post on the demise of print news journalism and the gradual decline of newspapers as news medium of choice this morning. It was expressed throughout the post that while the future for journalism is drastic, this future is not in fact news of itself, and it has in fact been obvious for so many who cared to even think about it for a moment.

A simple enough survey among anyone will reveal that few if any at all have in fact held and read a newspaper in the past few days, let alone bought one. Then an equally simple survey along the lines of ‘but have your read the news today?’ will reveal that the majority of the same people have in fact read some news articles, and are quite familiar with the main news headlines.

I certainly fall into this category. I don’t buy a newspaper, and I might at most pick up today’s newspaper if I’m in my parent’s house. I get an email every morning from the Irish Times, The Guardian, and the New York Times, all of which I usually open and browse the headlines (the NYT less so as a reaction to what was some pretty atrocious efforts of covering the murder of children in Gaza). I may click a link, but more often than not I don’t. Later on the bus to work I’ll scan through twitter for other news, and here I’ll click some links – some from these papers, and some links from other magazines or papers.

Note that I’m still calling them papers. You can see a lot of people on the same bus as me reading from the same sort of papers. And by papers I mean the medium they source the information from, not the publisher. There is very little paper on modern buses in 2014 as even our tickets are plastic.

We have I suppose come to a point where we are seeing the end of something which for so long was commonplace. This isn’t the first time that this has happened. Of course news media has now expanded into a 24 hour information dispensing factory composed of written text, images, and video encompassing reportage, opinion, and even advertisements selected for you based on the the material you are reading at the time. It is more sophisticated than ever before, but the form that brought it to the end is slowly dying.

If it is saved it will be interesting to see how this happens. It would have to be a fairly awesome machine that can outstrip the smartphone for its ability to bolster the necessity for 24 hour media immersion. We will always say that we don’t need something better, but someone is currently having ideas how to make this better. I can’t imagine what it will be, nor can I imagine when I will actually buy this device myself.

The reliance on smart devices in the media comes up against recent research which purports  that reading on a screen is less immersible than reading on paper. Where this information will do most damage will be in the ebook market, as well as offering much sought after vindication for supporters of books, who have long lauded the joy of touch on the rough paper of the individual page as an important reason for continuing their love affair with books, and shunning modernity in the shape of ebooks.

It is especially significant as this research will hopefully encourage a return to ye olde textbook for school kids, with the removal or reduction of ipads from the classroom. It’s not that I’m against technology in the classroom, in fact I endorse it fully, however replacing digital devices for actual books deserves a few complaints from me.

I’ll complain first about the necessity of only sourcing ipads when any other tablet should be sufficient, and indeed more cost effective. The connection of ipads and education will leave a lasting effect and I think that if we are encouraging kids to use technology in the classroom we should encourage them to be more discerning customers who know how to make informed decisions. I like ipads, in fact I love mine, but I certainly would never encourage someone to buy one over another product. Too each their own I say. Encouraging them in classrooms irks me. If we are to encourage any particular tech it should be, in my opinion, open source. But I shall digress for now.

Another thing I think is important about books in classrooms is that I think they encourage a little more responsibility. Other than dropping and smashing the screen of your device, you can kind of get away with anything. With books you kind of have to make sure not to tear them, spill things on them, and if you’re like me if you’re going to draw pictures and chew the corners you have the true physical and emotional response when your mother finds the state of them when she tries to sell them on second hand the year after you done with them.

Of course what’s most important about books is that you have a four dimensional experience with them. You have to touch the pages, you have to write notes in them (only lightly and in pencil of course), they smell, and you are as much engaged in the content as you are with the environment you are in at that time. You remember more because you experience more through your senses. Screens and devices attempt to replicate this, but they come a cheap second in the long run.

So what does this mean for news media? Well probably not a lot I’d wager. We still want news now, and no other medium other than smart technology and the internet can provide this. Yet. And when this medium arrives, it will be quicker and it will be more invasive in the way that we carry it around with us everywhere, whether it is social media or not.

Print however will not die, it will merely evolve. Can you recall the last time you read a 2000 word article on the bus or train in the morning? In fact I’m sure most readers are like me; a quick scroll to the bottom, check the length, then a scroll to the top and then decide somewhere in between as you scan a paragraph or two whether or not you’ll be bothered reading it. Do you do the same when it’s on paper?

Gone will be the short snappy articles often found in print. In will be a higher quality product, with longer and more in dept analysis focusing on long form journalism, quality photography and images, and a variety of news and analysis which stops us and takes us to another location, thought pattern, and allows us more than a simple report of events.You can already find these parts buried deep inside the features sections of most newspapers, but if there were more of them? Magazines have been doing this all the time, but perhaps we need even of this. It may not have to be daily, but it does need to be present.

As the ticker tape of news flickers by with crisis and disaster and scandal tumbling us into non-existence, this is the kind of material which lures us back. It forces us to stop, sit down, and to take a moment to actually read as we ignore the barrage of information tinkling in our pockets negotiating for our attention.

Perhaps now that we know that we cannot digest digital information as cohesively as we can words on print in time we will witness a rebirth of the printed word. The challenge I believe will be how will we change our lifestyles to adapt to this change, not how will the medium adapt to us.

It’s a nice thought.