Monthly Archives: December 2016

The Ogre of Dritvik is Still Waiting

The sun goes up and down, we’ve had a sandwich or two, storms have come in and out, but the Ogre of Dritvik is still out there. She never stops waiting.

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This energy that has been frozen in stone has more than human endurance, even though it is human observation that gives it bodily life. Here are the bits of her that time has worn away:

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That is pure Ogre, that is. It squeaks under your feet, calling out its name: “Pebble.” You can pick it up in your hand. Suddenly you are holding stillness. The whole energy of the volcano that made this coast is in your hand. Will you throw it out to sea? Will you hold it? Will you set it down? In this moment of stillness you become the world. The question all of us who have touched her ask is: What then?

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It’s a good thing we’re not alone in the rain as we try to figure it out, because that might, ultimately, be the answer.

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Don’t be alone in the rain.

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What are we waiting for?

 

Moods of Light in Iceland and Canada

What if the Earth were a sphere, continually focussing the sun into moods of light, like these in Breiðafjörður in November, with a very low solar angle…borgarfjordurwater

… or these in Okanagan Lake, between the Rocky Mountains and the Coast Mountains on the North Eastern Pacific Shore, in December (today!)?p1420577

To know how the planet was feeling, we would need to gather information globally and integrate it into a unified image.p1420581

With arts and sciences of dissection, we wind up talking about the arts and science of dissection, which does the planet no good at all, nor us. Let’s not forget the Icelandic sculptor Ásmundur Sveinsson, who saw his task as reducing the complexity of surfaces to elements the eye could see before the mind, and then the construction of technologies that the eye, not the mind, could think with. Things like this:

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Of course, he kept the mind busy at the same time, which is always polite. Following his principle, are two eye-poems for your eye, which I showed you yesterday. They are not word poems:

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Jökullsárlón

And because we are hospitable here and like company, here’s something for your mind. It is not an eye poem.p1320233

Kirkjubærjarklausstur

Book poems and mind poems are different things again. Poetry, though, ah, that’s a thing of the world.

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Kirkjubærjarklausstur

It is our home, but would we not be blind to call it our own? Let us just give praise.

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Kirkjubærjarklausstur

And thanks.p1390341

Breiðafjörður

And help with the braiding …

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Solheimajökull

… and the weaving of the fibres of this poem …

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Rushes in Lower BX Creek, Okanagan Lake

… together.

Reading Iceland

Here are some poems that the land wrote.
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The land reads them, too.
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Even the sun reads them.

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It helps with the writing as well.

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It is best to consider reading and writing as the same act.

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They happen simultaneously.

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You have the capacity to read along.

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You could call it a map, if you like, for a voyage.p1320732

There and back again.
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Jökulsárlón

Now for a novel.

svartiSvartifoss

 

 

Cool Life in Reykjavik

In the global city, money is made and stuff is imported from the world. This stuff is often cheap, as a representation of Icelandic global economic clout, although it does represent wealth and connection.
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Often the process of Icelandization is to treat this adopted material with humour born of poverty. Jokes of this kind are serious business. They warm a cold world.

Being At Home on Earth

Just a few metres away from a ruined farmhouse.p1310488

…some people cross the line to make images of themselves…
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… or of nature…

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… but not of how to live in it…

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… not of how to be home, or of how that continues when you leave.

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Or of what it means to stay.

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The earth is a social space.

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Human society is something different.

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Nature becomes a space of disobedience. This is called freedom.

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Isn’t it time to go home to the earth?

p1320175When you live there, there is no nature.p1320264There is a different freedom.p1320246

Obedience.

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Not everyone can leave for the city.

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