Friday, 23 April 2010


Kids playing in trees at Kjarvalstaðir art museum

Yesterday was our first day of Summer, and though chilly, we were gifted sunshine by the gods. No ashfall, no doom-laden black smoke skies, no new eruption. We've settled into our volcanism, and our latest foray into the world stage, with the calmness and wry humor of a people who count these disasters like clockwork. Like other fault-line cultures, ash and lava are part of who we are.

Meanwhile, our children still play.

Sunday, 18 April 2010


It's rare that I post a photo taken by someone else, but this image must be shared.

Everything is changing. The heart of our island is pulsing, throbs exposed for all to see, releasing a nature we've not witnessed for aeons. And we're to let our own hearts beat in time, push past the fear, find the Love we've forgotten or neglected, welcome the spirits, and dance. This is Paradise, and a most beautiful moment to be alive.

(photo of Eyjafjallajökull by Örvar Atli Þorgeirsson)

Tuesday, 13 April 2010


We bury a share of our national soul this week, and hope beyond hope there's an afterlife...

For more on the current state of our state, I'll let the Reykjavik Grapevine do the honors.

Saturday, 10 April 2010


At Kaldásel, near Hafnafjörður 

I have not been to the volcano yet, so no photos of gurgling, spewing lava lighting up the still-dark spring nights at the edge of a glacier.

Instead I'll offer up something much more mundane: a brightly-painted play feature standing lonely on the 7,300 year old Búrfellshraun lava field, east of Hafnarfjörður.