Callings

Beautiful murals just off of Bergstaðastræti in the heart of Reykjavik, 

I've tried to quit this blog quite a few times in the past decade, but have always felt compelled to post just one more photo, just one more entry. Historically I've announced my decision with explanations and justifications and excuses, which have been hard to backtrack on when the urge to share has overtaken me. This time around I took a quite pause from posting because it just seemed to make sense to. It was a part of an overall readjustment for me, a realignment with my inner self that lasted all of last Fall.

When I quit Iceland Eyes in 2012, it was to focus on writing 88, the work of semi-fiction I'd been planning to write for at least a decade, and it had to happen exactly during the autumn of that year. A year later I came roaring back, fresh with the vigor of having finally gotten printed copies of my book delivered to my door. I felt ready to tackle anything, even the Entire Internet! I was updating my fb fan page and Iceland Eyes twitter feed almost daily and crowing about my little paperback to anyone who'd listen. I was sure I'd, at the same time, be super diligent about starting a second book, and maybe follow through on the podcast idea a friend had. Around the same time the BBC World Service contacted me and asked me to be a guest on their World Have Your Say show (to listen to the pretty interesting Iceland portion, start at 27:00 minutes) as a specialist on all things Icelandic, twice! There'd been some political hiccups in my career as an English teacher at a local technical college, but I was sure I had a second life in full force as an online presence, and started dreaming of being able to quit in the most responsible and profitable manner. All was looking good!

So what was it that lead me to slow to a stop late this summer, to quietly disappear from all social media related to this blog? I had to go inwards, to a quiet place, especially with all the new 'noise' being generated here by our burgeoning tourist economy. So many visitors, so many photos posted online, so many articles and reviews...so much publicity for our little island, and so many locals competing for the almighty tourist buck! Living here in the very heart of the city, walking past all the visitors who are bussed up to Hallgrímskirkja every day to take photos and see the downtown sights, watching decades-old specialty shops being turned into souvenir stores and apartment rental prices skyrocketing as space after space is turned into a guesthouse has been...challenging. I hold no grudge against any of this (except the rental prices for my friends' sakes...I own my apartment, so am not directly affected) and I actually feel that this increase in tourism is helping Iceland to mature in many ways. But it gets overwhelming, and I just wanted to sit back, breathe deep, and watch the flow from somewhere still inside of me. And so I did.

Recently, though, my sister Addy and her family (who live out in Cupertino still, in the house we grew up in - a gorgeous Eichler with a lemon, grapefruit and kumquat tree in the backyard) came to visit my parents who moved back here about eight years ago. She and I were chatting about life in general, and she told me that she was going to give me a book she'd had recommended to her, entitled Callings, by Gregg Levoy. It's all about, you guessed it, callings...those aspects of life that we refuse to answer at our peril, those intuitive drives and urges that keep directing us towards a goal or towards some thing (a career, a hobby, a location, a mindset...) that we will always feel un-whole without. Being handed this book has been totally apropos for two reasons...one, it made me realize that sometimes you are called to do somthing that you may not even enjoy all the time, but that compels you in both internal and external ways to take part in (this blog, for example), and two, that I definitely also feel called to engage more fully in the eco-sustainability movement here in Iceland (I'll be posting more about that the months to come.)

So, after a spell of returning to my personal source of inspiration and discovering a way to see our new Iceland with new eyes, I'm happy to be posting again. I've realized that I'm not able to let this space become some kind of promotional venue for the curious potential visitor, with attending hype and media noise,  but will let it stay being what it's always been: a place for me to share my own personal Iceland in my own way, with anyone who'd like to stop by ~.~

Evening

On some evenings during long arctic sunsets, we look north out of the top-floor window of my parent's house and watch our local pyramid turn pink.

Cool

I wonder if those of you who aren't so into music but who love to follow all things Icelandic are tired of hearing about our Airwaves festival. It's definitely been all over all types of media here for the past week, flooding Twitter feeds and print newspapers and everything in between with rave reviews and slightly blurry, colorful concert photos. It wrapped up on Sunday, but even though the music's over we've still got plenty of visitors hanging out, doing last minute touristy-type things, like going to the top of Hallgrímskirkja or buying last-minute postcards for their mothers. In fact, I'm sitting here in the newly-rechristened Kaffismiðjan (it's Reykjavík Roasters now) with three brand-new and very interesting Airwaves friends hearing the happy chatter of international voices surrounding us.

I'm glad I ended up seeing so many excellent and entertaining Icelandic musicians at off-venue sites around town (scroll down the Iceland Eyes Twitter feed for many of the bands I saw.) Their sets were usually on the short side, but when you get to listen to Múm or Berndsen or Hermigervill live, for free, and possibly even dance on chairs at 6:30 in the evening on a Sunday while doing so (here's proof on the Iceland Eyes Facebook Page ) you certainly can't complain. I'm continually stunned by the power and talent of Icelandic music scene, and will be sure to post regularly about it on our social media feeds.

(The image is of a large, random chunk of ice in front of the Harpa events hall, which was the Airwaves main base this year. It is, in my opinion, a very cool addition to our energetic little city : )

Movement

A mother and her daughter exit a gate on a rainy May day at Óðinn's preschool, Grænaborg. He graduated yesterday in an official ceremony, complete with being called up to receive a diploma and rose, and to shake hands with the wonderful people who have been caring for him daytimes for the past four years. They're like family, and the safety and security of such a small school will be much missed.

But we grow and get older and change happens in our lives whether we like it or not. For a kid who just turned six this transition - from a cozy preschool campus to Austurbæjarskóli with its rich 82-year history, hundreds of students (many with families who have recently immigrated here) and geothermally-heated indoor swimming pool - is a huge deal. Never mind that the two schools are less than quarter mile apart, on either side of Hallgrímskirkja. This is as dramatic as an intercontinental relocation!

His father and I considered private schools, but ultimately I'm really glad that our boy will be attending an urban campus only yards away from our home, that encourages multicultural education without that drive to total assimilation into Icelandic society that has been such pressing and often destructive force here. (I often tell people that even though I am a 'pure-bred' I still choose to speak Business American on the phone when dealing with companies or banks or anything money related -- basically when people only hear me with my accent I seem to get much worse service! If I show up in person, though, and speak my Icelandic [which is admittedly a totally unique language ;] all is fine: I look Icelandic [whatever that means these days!] and am forgiven my less-than-perfect conjugations. *Not cool!*)

When Iceland opened itself up in the 80's to becoming an active part of the global capitalist conversation, allowing an influx of foreign goods and services to dilute the cultural 'purity' and isolationism of the previous centuries, it effectively gave up the ability to control the rampant growth and often destructive effects of consumerism. The foreign-born talent and labor that has followed in the wake of globalization, and especially the children of these immigrants, simply cannot be denied the same opportunities and rights as the 'pure-breds' whose ancestors have clung to this lava rock for over a millennia now.  A human is a human is a human, and we're all in this Life on Earth thing together. I'm happy that Óðinn will continue to get the chance to meet kids from all over the world at school, and grow from that experience : )

Have you tried Dynamic Viewing yet? Five new views in all. Use the blue tab at the top of the view page to check them all out.

Sentiment

Why, of course you can!

Knit-graffiti left at the top of Skólavörðurstígur by an intrepid, and sentimental, tourist.

(Have you tried Dynamic Viewing yet? Use the blue tab at the top of the view page for five amazing new views.)

Nap

A tourist takes a shady break on a bench in a tiny park right by Hallgrímskirkja. There used to be a house on the lot, a ramshackle cottage that was torn down a few years ago and replaced by roll-a-lawn. I pass this lot almost every day (a wall of the college where I teach is in the background) and certainly did not expect it to stay empty and green for as long as it has. With the addition of of a couple of arty sheep silhouettes and a bench, it's now a proper park-ette, though as is only visitors take advantage of its idyll.

Was the land bequeathed to the city, I wonder? Is there some green benefactor purposed with sprinkling small gardens about town? Nice thought, and with the same healthy benefit as our pop-up Heart Park, which I wrote about in 2009, and again last year when street artists took it over with urban style (note that the brick wall in the first link is the 'canvas' in the second ; )

Grass, trees, some benches and art...has there ever been a better combination to soothe a city's soul?

Silhouette

A classic shot, and a memorable view for anyone who has traveled here to Reykjavík. This statue of adventurer Leifur Eiriksson, gifted to Iceland by the US in memory of his travels back in the day, stands brave and tall, silhouetted against an early winter twilight.

Sunrise

I am lucky enough to teach at Tækniskólinn, the Technical College of Reykjavík, which rests stolidly upon the rise of Skólavörðurholt, just beside Hallgrímskirkja. Lucky to have a permanent position, lucky to work next to, for and with amazingly talented people from many technical and industrial fields, such as engineers, pilots, ships captains, carpenters, electricians, beauticians, designers, programmers, plumbers, masons and goldsmiths. Lucky to have students who let me rant my idealized, world-of-the future rants (in between mini-lectures on verbs and such.) And lucky to have a 360°view of the lovely city surrounding us.

This morning, during our first teachers meeting of the semester, I found myself absorbed by the gorgeous sunrise glowing brighter and brighter over the ridge of mountains to the east. This photo was taken with my new little compact camera pressed just up against the window with my daughter's school, Austurbæjarskóli, in the immediate foreground and the white twin church spires of Háteigskirkja just visible in the distance. As the day progressed the weather got worse, and by now, eveningtime, we are settling in for an intense 13th Night of Christmas storm.

Esja

Sunset over Reykjavik

GUEST PHOTOGRAPHER: James Wyld

James writes: Over summer this year, I finally started hiking regularly - something I've been meaning to do for a long time. Thankfully, this is Iceland and there is no shortage of places nearby to explore.

Across the bay from Reykjavik, one such place is a mountain called Esja which provides the perfect opportunity for a quick break from the city. Esja only takes an hour or three to climb, and for your efforts you are rewarded with fresh air and amazing views back to the city. In summer it is possible to climb it even late into the evening thanks to the long days, but as winter takes hold, the days shorten and Esja can often be covered in snow. On these days the experience of climbing it changes dramatically, and the sense of adventure heightens.

One thing in particular I love about winter in Iceland is the light from the low sun. Perhaps due to the short days, it takes on an almost magical quality as it paints the sky in striking but soft colours. On this particular day in late November, I was just finishing a hike on Esja - walking across a field back to where I had parked my car. Looking over the water to Reykjavik, the distinctive shape of Hallgrimskirkja was clearly sillouetted against the setting sun.

People often ask me why I moved here, I find it is not a very hard question to answer.

James, a native of Australia, is currently Virtual World Project Leader at Iceland's CCP Games, the innovative team behind the award winning EVE Online.

Reykjavík

Been ages since I've added a new post but that's a good thing...I've been happily busy, you see.

This pic is shot from the top of the Hallgrímskirkja tower on a lovely day last year. Amazingly, the link I added above is for a Wikipedia article on this, our famously oversized church. But maybe not so odd after all when one of the first and very prolific writers for that prodigious online encyclopedia is an Icelander living in a small trailer somewhere New Mexico-ish, happily typing away and filing entry after entry on his native country.

Of course there is the ubiquitous exterior shot of the tower on the Wikipedia link, as well as one very similar to this one, taken in winter. I have to say, though, that I like mine better! ;-)

The Neighborhood

Here's a photo of my charming neighborhood. Valentína and Karítas talked me into going up to the top of Hallgrímskirkja this afternoon, and thanks to cold but lovely weather I was able to take this birdseye pic of my little slice of the world. You can just see the roof of my building, dead center and just a little above the middle of the shot, behind the long pinkish building that runs right to left. I like this photo, especially for the fact that the town lake shows so well.