Tag Archives: Art

Country Life / City Life in Iceland

You might as well mix it up, eh.

In Iceland, even the grass has a mind of its own.


And the clouds.

This makes farming hard. There are even traffic rules for tractors in downtown Reykjavik!!!!!

Well, you can always make some art.

And the geese have run away for the day.

Under the cover of the rain.

Sheep, too.

Just try to make a living like that!

Can’t even walk across your field without breaking a hoof.

And the fields are vertical. Tricksy.

And your horses are begging from passersby.

Sheesh.

You wind up commuting into town for work, that’s what.

Danger in that in summer too. Not enough tourists in the summer in the rain to keep down the grass.

Note to self: bring a weed whacker.

After all, gas is expensive.

And the artists have gone strange.

It’s not normal, you know.

 

Good thing there’s golf!



Well, yeah, the wind’s blowing, but, hey, you know. You can always pretend its not there.

Right?

Right!

 

 

The Hunt for the Best Art Gallery in Iceland

Is it goofing around with a culvert at Grandatorg?

Or lunch at the Kjarvalstaðir gallery?

Or goofing around with shop windows on Laugavegur?

Or just goofing around at Laugarnestangi as the sun comes up over Viðey?

Or a goofy farmer’s field on the way to Dettifoss?

Or a whole town goofing off at Kópasker?

Or an aluminum smelter buying allegiance with a pretty thing on Sæbraut?

Or doing more with less on Laugavegur because you need more with your less?

Or just goofing off with a little bit of security magic on Frakkastígur?

 

Or the painting amusing themselves at Kjarvalstaðir, because everyone has come to lunch with old friends, and the paintings are certainly old friends.


Or outdoing Mondrian in a sheep farm in the Fljótsdalur?

Or some weird kind of planting flowers to give children hope in front of some everybody-comes-to-Iceland-with-spray-cans-now-that-the-building-sites-have-been-abandoned-after-the-financial-meltdown, because what else?

Or politics? Is it an art gallery, too?

It’s the cigarette tin, right?

No, wait, it’s the riding stable signage in Akureyri!

No, wait! It’s spilled paint and a stick on a parking lot!

It never ends. Icelanders are a pretty serious looking bunch, even Björk, and they write about gruesome murders and stuff, and their novelists kill off all their heroes and heroines just because, but don’t believe it, because they’re always goofing off, with a straight face. Do you think the horses taught them about this, in those centuries of isolation?

Well, maybe not the straight face part.

Eye and Body Thinking in Iceland

It is a wonderful thing that Ásmundar Sveinsson worked with in Reykjavik: to make thoughts for the eye to consider, in the parts of thought independent of the cognitive mind.

Sveinsson’s Troll Woman in Reykjavik

When viewing, remember that a troll is not a creature from fairy tale but any person deeply connected with a place. “Trolls”, in other words, are themselves the body thinking, in the parts of thought independent of the cognitive mind. Sveinsson was so independent that he remains, still, ahead of his time.