Tag Archives: raven

Not All Trolls Need Take on Animal Shape

Being stone is enough when you are stone.


Litlafoss

Gunnar Gunnarsson called basalt like this the chain-linked rhymes of traditional Icelandic verse. He meant, I think, nothing is unlinked. This raven, for instance, flying above that stone…

 

…nests in it. Poetry is natural architecture, in Gunnar’s world.

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.

If You Talk to Ravens

They will do tricks for you. If you talk to them. That’s because you’ll startle them and they’ll do acrobats mid-air to try to understand your bad accent.tricky

Don’t worry. They’ll repeat what they think you said so you can get it right. You’re up to this. Don’t worry. They’ll always have the first word…and the last. But you’re good with humility, right? Sure you are!