Last Days in Skagastrond

August 29^th

This is my last day at the Nes residency. Tomorrow morning I leave Skagastrond for a short road trip before returning to Los Angeles on September 1^st.

Last night the temperature dipped to 38 degrees and this morning there is an obstinate dusting of snow on the top of the mountain I climbed two weeks ago. It seems there is no time between summer and winter. The school children are bundled in hats and parkas and adults leave their cars running when they go into the gas station for morning coffee.

I have learned a great deal about the school system in Iceland from Aldis, a 15 year old girl who has been making paintings along side me in the studio several afternoons a week. We have grown quite fond of each other and I will miss her. She is self possessed and great fun with a wry sense of humor and excellent command of English. She didn’t study English in school until 5^th grade but all of the youth culture activities, face book being the most important, are in English. She watches American TV shows, which are subtitled, but she turns the subtitles off.  All towns, no matter how small – Grimsey being an example – offer free education until age 16. Aldis’ grade level has 10 students, nicely proportioned at 5 boys and 5 girls.  Next year Aldis and her classmates continue their education by attending one of the regional schools in larger towns. The largest schools are in Akureyri, where Aldis will go, and Reykjavik. Parents pay for students to lodge in dorms and there is scholarship money for those without means. Many students live with family members. Most teenagers do continue with the last two years of high school although it is not compulsory.

I kid around with Aldis and she has quite a sharp whit. We talked about the painting of the shrimp with the words “ceci n’est pas une crevette” and I showed her Magritte’s iconic pipe painting. When she looked confused I explained that in part Magritte was pointing out that it was not a pipe, but a painting of a pipe.  The next day she made a painting and I said, “oh nice, is that a butterfly?” to which she answered “no, it is a painting of a butterfly.”

She gave me these stones.

I gave her this one from Greece because there are so few stars in Iceland in the summer.

Here is my studio wall before it all gets packed away.

August 27

Yesterday I took another drive to investigate the west side of the Skagafjordur fjord. The first stop was in Saudarkrokur (which translates to sheep-river-hook) the largest town in Northwest Iceland and the second-largest town on the north coast of Iceland, with a population of 2,635. To put that in perspective, the town is 2 and half times the size of the student population at Crossroads.

We stopped for lunch at a restaurant that served Puffin, the national bird, in a variety of ways. This is the bird that tourists travel miles to nowhere just to see, and here I was able to see it on my plate.

I ordered shrimp instead in honor of the sign on the local processing plant (with a nod to Magritte).

There are a lot of fissures and crevasses in Iceland. The land just splits open forming below road level gullies and streams. It is really hard to keep your eyes on the road and drive at the same time, even when you can see 30 miles ahead and behind and, most often, no other cars in sight.

The low flatlands at the mouth of the Skaga fjord have the grass covered bowling balls that I find so enchanting.

We drove to the end of the paved portion of route 76 to the port town Siglufjorour (pop. 1,206) nestled against imposing mountains. A high point was the Wizard of Oz poster in the (only) restaurant and the docked ship.

The best part of the day was discovering the water rounded columnar basalt stools by the sea in the town of Hofsos (200 residents). A perfect place to relocate the stone someone placed on the wall of a sea cave at Mikro Seitani beach in Samos, Greece.

August 20th trip

August 20^th Trip 

Early Monday morning Jeri and I drove through the fog to Akureyri, Iceland’s second largest town, which sits at the base of the Eyjafjorur fjord in the center of the North region, population 1,700. The big event of the day was the flight to Grimsey Island.

The flight itself was exhilarating and it afforded terrific views of the cockpit as well as the landscape.

Grimsey Island straddles the Arctic Circle and has:

A summer population of 90, 60 in the winter

One road, store, elementary school, church, pool and library

No police, no crime

No doctor

Three horses

No dogs, cats, mice

No trees, shrubs or bushes

Millions of birds

No rocks that aren’t covered in guano

A three hole golf course just north of the Arctic Circle line

I relocated the rock with salt crystal that Christine Nguyen made in the cairn at the 65 degree north line.

From the remote, cold, windy and desolate Grimsey we returned to Akureyri and had a stroll through their botanical gardens, established in 1912 by an industrious local woman.

Iceland is filled with small museums and a real gem is the Museum of Industry. Instead of importing, Icelanders made just about everything themselves including all types of paint and marine varnishes, manufacturing machines, clothing and food products. The displays were almost archival – this was a favorite and outdoes anything by Damien Hirst.

The following day we drove south and east to the Myvatn lake region. It is a bit touristy for Iceland and you can see why. I preferred the low endless lava fields to some of the more classically beautiful spots on the lake and relocated this smooth caramel like stone from the Greek Island Patmos.

There is crazy geothermal activity on the north west side of the lake. I find it impossible to recreate the color of the water in words or image but will throw out a few adjectives – milky blue green phosphorescence with a radioactive luminosity. It’s as if you took one of those light sticks you buy at CVS pharmacy during Halloween, crack it open and pour it into a bowl of skim milk.

Jeri described the day as going from the moon to Mars. Can’t do any better than that.

August 19th

Yesterday a local naturalist organized a hike to the top of the mountain. There were about 20 of us in total, 4 artists from Nes and the rest town folks. The day began with nice sunny weather and I noticed Icelanders forgo switchbacks for the straight up the mountain approach. 

About half way up a boy found this old key at the base of a large stone. 

The guide told us to touch the stone to feel the magic it held from the key (this a rough translation from the Icelandic I’m not too sure what he said). Then the boy was told to put the key back where he found it and we continued. I really don’t think this was arranged, it happened as if stuff like this goes on all the time here in the mountains. 

 As we neared the top a very cold fog rolled over us. 

I was happy at this point to be wearing long underwear and multiple layers of wool under my fleece hoodie and wind and waterproof fleece lined jacket, and hat. 

There is a large stone cairn at the summit with a book everyone signs and dates. 

I had a stone with me that I picked up on a dirt road in Samos, Greece, which I wedged between the rocks of the cairn while no one was looking.

Heading back down through the fog.

When we returned to the starting point, a golf course, we were given coffee and Icelandic cheese pancakes. We also got a multi-purpose sheep bone that provides good luck and answers yes or no questions when tossed. 

August 15

Yesterday housemate Jeri and I took a field trip around the Vatnsdalsholar valley. She is a photo based artist and I was looking for the legendary “floating islands” so our progress was extremely slow.  

 The valley floor is filled with a river that snakes and occasionally forms lakes. There are some small islands that are said to move – float – in the lakes. I don’t understand how this can happen but the very idea makes me extremely happy. 

 The valley is framed by a mountainous landslide to the NE that turns into a high ridge with cracks that form very narrow valleys, some too thin to stand in. The cracks on the SE side are larger and dramatic valleys are formed. Water literally weeps from the sides of the hills.

Surprising how people farm and live in this valley.

We were very excited to see some trees.

I discovered a natural moss and lichen “garden” on one of the rocks at the base of the landslide. It seemed like the perfect place to relocate the small stone that came from a backyard garden in Kansas. From Kansas to Los Angeles to North West Iceland.