Ireland: Hail, History, and My Sketchbook

My Irish Journey 2026

I’ve recently returned home from a two-week adventure in Ireland, and if you’ve ever been to that magical island, you know there’s something special about it that’s hard to shake. I’m still high on the verde of it all, the wit, the weather, the chats, the history, the music, the sorrow, the hope.

And yes, I’m already dreaming about my return, even though that wicked spring weather absolutely kicked my arse. The cold, sideways rain and sleet, the way the weather made me feel very small in the span of a few minutes, but also made me feel alive. Like a slap across the face.

I spent my first few days in Dublin getting my legs under me and exploring the city from the perspective of hosting a sketch workshop there someday. That means I was looking through three lenses: logistics, sketching potential, and cost. And oy vey, the costs are rising in Ireland and the pinch is real. But just like my life in Mexico, adapting is key, as is planning ahead.

There’s a nervous hum churning under daily life that I think is getting louder. Ireland, like so much of the world, is dealing with cost of living stress, social anger, housing shortages, political strain, and the growing weight of right-wing thugs trying to trample democracy and call it leadership. Sound familiar? It’s a strange reality, and clearly new ways of navigating are required. Still, it’s a glorious world in so many ways, and my hope is to see and experience it as much as possible. Godspeed to us all.

I was in Dublin on Easter and was up early to hear the reading of the Proclamation of the Irish Republic at the General Post Office, the document read each year to mark the 1916 Easter Rising. “Irishmen and Irishwomen,” it begins, and declares Ireland’s right to independence. It was cold, clear, and sunny as I began to draw the scene, but in a flash, icy rain and wicked hail began to pelt me and my sketchbook. So manic!

I spent time learning about the Irish bog people, researching the best scone (more research’s necessary), and diving into the local lore. I took a food tour and a mythology tour; both excellent. Not only because of what I learned, but because these tours helped me fine tune what I was seeing. The Goddess Éiru is everywhere.

Even though I could feel the anger many people rightly have towards the United States, I did not hear one terse word. In fact, quite the opposite. People were incredibly kind and curious, especially when I was drawing. Generally speaking when I draw in the streets of Mexico City, people leave me alone, and I don’t mind that, but it was much different in my travels across the island.

“Are you drawing?”
“What are you drawing?”
“Did you draw that?”
“Could you draw me?”

Delightful!

After a few days in Dublin, I was off to Galway and at first, I didn’t like it. It felt too touristy, too canned, but thankfully I saw the light because holy mackerel, Galway got under my skin right quick. I had an Airbnb with a kitchen, a washing machine, loads of hot water, a heater, and I was positioned beautifully in the Latin Quarter (above a pub that doesn’t play music!). I bought a Claddagh ring and cooked an Irish ribeye. I then spent a spectacularly sunny day on a boat to the Cliffs of Moher and then off to the otherworldly Aran Islands. I took in the history, the strangeness and the beauty and I liked it. Upon my return to Galway, I was greeted by a bowl of seafood chowder, brown soda bread with out-of-this-world butter, and a fiddle player. Ahhhh. Okay. I get it.

On my last night, I went to a pub with my sketchbook. Within seconds, I was talking to Galway locals. They were funny and smart and kind. They called my drawings insane and brilliant, which I took as the compliment it was meant to be.

Then it was back to Dublin for a few more days to wrap things up and get some final notes. I rented a bike and rode from Poolbeg Chimneys to Phoenix Park and gawked at the puffy white clouds in the blue, blue sky.

I do hope to host a Sketch Ireland workshop in 2027, but I’m not rushing to declare anything yet because the world’s changing fast. I want to see what unfolds in the weeks ahead. Ahhhh but the seed has been planted.

Thank you, Ireland, for your warmth, your storms, your history, your lively conversations, and your strange, unforgettable ancient beauty.

Love,
Meagan

To see more of my Ireland drawings, check out my Instagram.