A FEW WORDS ON HOW THE HORIZON BREAKS THE NOOSE INTO DARKNESS
ICELAND 2017. WEEK ONE.
Exploring patterns of the way in which we coexist with the orchestra of light is its own task within Iceland. An unsettled gaggle of vampire-esque behaviour in the dark, constantly lit by candle light and the face of snow trodden beneath your feet. The elements keep you sharp between the ears, the formidable red earlobe and brushed pink skin. Fingertips lost to the biting wind combined by an endless trickery of visions cast by snow, storms and the expanse of night sky. Snow drifts mimic their own ancestral river current as they travel far and wide enveloping the space into illusions. I am told that Inuit culture has over 50 words/terms for snow alone. The more time I spend in the mountains I feel in tune with that restlessness in not being satisfied with so little vocabulary to explain such an elemental renegade.
The sun seems to be stuck proudly at a height, as if a child cant quite reach the exact spot where it should be. It boasts its in-between position, in a golden globe of light that turns the snow capped mountains pink. Every part of the town is varnished in a biblical light as the water reverberates its presence. The moon however, is like the friend at the party that seems to be everywhere at once. Many nights I have walked to the local library and the moon quite literally jumps around the sky, as bright as the sun.
Its a powerful place to be, to breathe. Silence. Only the elements move here, you need not move at all. When you fall out of the cycle of your routine being dictated by light, your motivation is transformed. You learn to respect it, learn it and move at your own pace. With so much darkness in these winter months, you find your body actively resisting it. Watching the community, it becomes clear that our westernised culture seems to have a few (many) of the fundamental pressures wrong. This small fishing town has reformed time, and with it, an organic identity.