Tag Archives: Iceland

Tracking Humans in Iceland

Like sheep, humans leave trails which express the shape of their bodies. Note how this trail leads to the summit of this hill (near Hveragerði), where humans like to perch to have an unimpeded view, but it does not quite lead there directly. It avoids the steepest bits, where humans could topple backwards, given how unbalanced the poor beasts are.Now, a prey species, such as a reindeer, would likely walk along the ridge line, to maintain a sightline the whole way up. Humans prefer to remain hidden. If this were a land with predators, though, such as bear or wolves, humans would use their strong eyesight to advantage, allowing themselves to be hidden not by a hill but by openness and distance and the mind that can work them to advantage. It’s not that way when you put them inside a dump truck, such as here near Kikjubærjarklaustur:

Put a human on that track without a big truck to zoom around in and the animal is likely to climb one of those hills to see what it can see. Without a truck as a kind of surrogate thought, roads make humans blind. That’s why they like to make more-or-less straight lines. They follow their eyes, in the front of their heads, which take in straight light, such as here at Asbyrgi, at dusk.

When they can actually see where they are going, a straight line is best.The poor things get lost otherwise.

Luckily, the brains of these creatures sort out the tangled forms of the earth into lines.And their stumbling footsteps try their best to follow. Look how at Grabrok the wind tries to blow them away.You have to think ahead to be an animal like that.

Horses, no not so much.

Whispering Sweet Nothings in a Farm Troll’s Ear

This troll is marked on no map, yet so many travellers have found it that access has been blocked — an unusual thing for Iceland, but necessary. I leave it for you to find it yourself. Note the old house site to the troll’s left. Yeah, on the grassy slope, and at its base. People used to live closer to trolls than they do now.

Still, take a look in the troll’s ear to the right above, and then to the goofs chatting in there, as if they were on the set of a silent movie.How can you block access to what doesn’t belong to you in the first place? How can you stop a conversation that has no sound? You can’t, but you can give it space.

Seeing in the Dark

One of the great pleasures of Iceland is to walk up a remote canyon, followed by ravens hoping you will slip and break a leg, and to know that they are your thoughts.

These thoughts.

It’s a northern thing. Of course, a country where a bell rope can serve as an improvised noose is a fine place to wander, too.

Darkness is everywhere, but it’s not black. It’s red or something, like blood.

The eye touches the earth as a bodily organ, as much as it does as the hand of the mind.

The mind is as much a heart as it is a muscle. It swims in blood.

Humans can’t see darkness, I read all the time. In Iceland, this illusion just doesn’t wash.

Maybe you can’t see it, but you can touch it, and enter through it the world behind the world.

And what is there?

Why, you are.

This doesn’t work in Reykjavik.

There, under the effect of the outside world, this sense of presence is called art.

One can live there, too. Between worlds.

Trying to catch the attention of passersby. Don’t worry. The world still sees you.

And you still see past it.

The old paths still wait.

Where the Sea Speaks

Here in Reydarfjörður, the Atlantic has strewn the tidal zone with treasure. Let’s call that speech.It is the same gesture, and all North European ancestors knew it, for to strew is to speak, and what one speaks is scattered, like bird tracks on the shore, on the edge of the place where ocean speaks, the strand.

Presence can be speech.

Not All Old Technology is Thrown Away in Iceland

It’s something about reverence.

And thanks. Yeeha!Some is still very much alive. (Note as well the turf house, towards you from the house just behind the hill, and the other old buildings along the slope to the right.) When the whole country is a museum, that people live in, even the two-legged sort, it’s not a museum. It’s a place stripped of what doesn’t belong. That junk is put into second hand shops in Reykjavik, in the hope that people from far away are going to take it back with them where  it came from.

It is a very proud, and very quiet, nationalism.

 

Two Speed Iceland

The water swirls, and the wind swirls in the water, and under the effects of a kind of spiritual gravity, they congeal.If humans could move at their speed, they would still be swirling, but we are so fast that they appear still. We are light flickering on the surface of these flows.

And that’s beautiful, too.  That’s Iceland: a country that lives at two speeds, at once.

Icelandic Fencing Technology: the Spiritual Dimension

What are fences for?In some countries, fences are to separate herds from grain land, or to divide pasture land, for successive grazing over a season, or just to keep the stock off the road. In Iceland, it’s a bit different. It’s something people learned from the land and tried out.

Now to figure out what is being fenced in, or fenced out! Not these reindeer. They just walk over fences.

Not these horses.

No fence required! Not the people below…

That’s not a fence, just posts to keep the people from falling over into the grass. It’s a mystery!

Perhaps it’s the dead? Such as here at Kirkjubærjarklaustur?

Na. They can get out on the other side. I think it’s just a gesture, to show the mind its limits. This too:

So, like, a halter for the human will!