I just watched a short, short film shot in Iceland. I didn't realize that there would be a voice-over of The Laughing Heart by Charles Bukowski. I don't know how I could not have known about this poem. So beautiful. It's good to make a discovery like this.
Here's for you:
The Laughing Heart by Charles Bukowski
your life is your life don’t let it be clubbed into dank submission. be on the watch. there are ways out. there is light somewhere. it may not be much light but it beats the darkness. be on the watch. the gods will offer you chances. know them. take them. you can’t beat death but you can beat death in life, sometimes. and the more often you learn to do it, the more light there will be. your life is your life. know it while you have it. you are marvelous the gods wait to delight in you.
Hello, friends. I just wanted to let you know that I'm working on a new blog home for us. It will be a big move with a different host. While Typepad has provided excellent customer service and support over the years, I feel that I may have outgrown its offerings.
In an effort to move forward with my photography, I thought it important to find a host that caters to that medium. I'm not sure (feel doubtful, really) that I will maintain both web hosting accounts. Soon enough a decision will have to be made and I am leaning towards letting this space grow wild, fill with weeds and surrender to neglect - it's been wanting to do that for some time anyways.
But that doesn't mean an end. The new space will have a better view, a spring that will nurture new growth and space to stretch our legs. I think you'll like it. Start loading your wagons and watch for the smoke signals. Three puffs of smoke means we're ready to go.
Hey, remember me? I'm the one who fell off the face of the earth a month ago. I was free falling for a bit or maybe I was just chasing my own tail. It involved some deep-ish existential pondering. Do I have anything to say (creatively speaking)? What am I trying to say? What do I want to express? Where does longing come from? And discontent, and exuberance and how is it possible to swing from one branch to the next with such gusto? I needed a time out.
My mind is in the habit of constantly evaluating and comparing and searching and for what, I'm not exactly sure. I know it involves "seeing/observing" and "making" and "contemplating". It has to do with self-expression but at the same time surrendering the notion of the self. I'll tell you what, I can't wait until the temperatures start to drop because I need to start running again. That would clear my head right up.
I've also realized that this blog template is doing nothing for me. I'm not sure which way to go. I feel like it may be time to move on from this platform. That's another topic for another time
AND, my dog is getting old. Age. It sneaks up on you, those canine years, that 7:1 ratio. So there's that.
In the meantime, there's this:
This is the unassuming path that takes you to Seljavallalaug pool. It's a bit off the road and there are no signs to assure that you are going in the right direction. You just need to have faith.
The path to Seljavallalaug pool
It's a tiny jewel, like an heirloom ring - not fancy,
but you wouldn't trade it for the world.
There were about a dozen people lingering and swimming, laughing and talking. People came and went. The side nearest the changing rooms is the coolest, the side nearest the camera is the warmest. The water pours in very hot and cools as it disperses. My photos don't do it justice in part because I was worried about dropping my camera or phone into the water. This link has some really nice photos of the spot. And the NYT had a great article about pools in Iceland as well.
We spent time between our outings in time roaming the streets, talking to dogs, looking at shops and eating waffles and chocolate rhubarb pastries. So much fabulous in one place, on one little island. I'd love to go back every summer.
I was so excited to share photos and details of my recent trip to Iceland, and I did - straight away with the promise of sharing more. I look at the photos now and just know that they do not convey the beauty of the place. But nothing could, right? Unless you determined yourself to get there.
The entire trip just makes me wish that I was more fluent with my camera. I wish that I knew every nuance that it was capable of. The camera is a way of communication for me and my lack of mastery makes me feel as though I can only speak in the present tense and with a thick accent that few can decipher.
Posting here is a way for me to move forward. Still, photos only feel like proof that I've been somewhere. They can only give you a brief glimpse of what lies across the ocean.
The second day of our trip, we headed to Skógafoss. Skógafoss is an extraordinary waterfall. In images people looked dwarfed in comparison to the falls. It is, however, nearly roadside and being situated so close to the road meant that there were a fair amount of people visiting; more than I was ready for. It meant more people to see me labor up the 200 ft. incline and stumble down it when we were headed back to the car. It meant climbing to the top and needing to take a solid 20 minute nap in the spongy moss among the sheep to recover. Long story short, it wasn't the best day. It might even count as the worst day if sitting atop a cliff on a sunny day in Iceland could count as a bad day.
I'll be honest here, the problem was not so much the people or the climb or the stumbling geek in me. The problem was bacon. I always thought that Americans were gaga over bacon, or that I had perhaps a too intense fondness for the meat but I think the good people of Hvolsvöllur may love it even more than I.
We stayed the night at an AirBnB in the small town of Hvolsvöllur and stopped at a cafe before our roadtrip. We wanted something simple so we ordered bacon and eggs with toast. What did we get? Well, bacon. A lot of bacon. The breakfast was primarily bacon, pretty much an entire plate full which was garnished with two eggs. In fact, we may have actually each been served an entire package of bacon with eggs and toast. You try climbing a 200 ft cliff carrying 17 pounds of camera equipment with a gut full of pork. In hindsight I should have ordered the oatmeal.
Sitting bloated in the car was much more agreeable than hiking. The best part of the day was just sitting and driving a little and getting out of the car now and then to take photos. Side note: I haven't had even a slice of bacon since Hvolsvöllur.
In the summer of 2015 my husband and I acquired a fine German touring machine (aka VW Jetta Wagon TDI) so that we could escape the confines of Austin from time to time. We never know if we're going to head out to Lockhart for barbecue, Fredricksburg for peaches or Marble Falls for a soapbox derby. The only sure thing is that my trusty Canon goes along for the ride