Insanity or Artists

This is a "fake" conversation or it might not be.
I leave it for you to decide.

Mother (M) - Do you know you have a mother?
Daughter (D) - Yes, I might have more than one.
M - Oh
D - What can I do for you? As I know something is behind this conversation. (Yesterday I had an email asking me to get on Skype).
M - You know those threads I use.
D - No. You use thousands of different threads.
M- Yes, but...
D - Can we talk in a couple of days on skype, as I am busy.
M - What are you busy with?
D - Well I do work sometimes you know. I am working on my things, no need to get into details.
M - Oh. Don´t you know there is Christmas coming up?
D - Is this a threat for me to not get any Christmas presents.
M - Yes. I need a black thread. Can I use your VAT number?
D - Well I am not sneaking on the Icelandic government in need, and with your best friend as a minister. No way. We won´t be able to borrow the car. Who will give me seabirds, fish, keep my superior blueberries in their freezer.
M - But the doctor´s in Sweden buy freezers on "their companies".
D - Is this thread so important. I mean I thought someone had died on something.
M - This is much more important than death. This is life.
D - Aha. Thanks for teaching me a few things about life.
M - Well I need this thread. Do you know how to use Google? Is Google not your friend?
D - But I am sure you know how to use Google?
M - No that is the thing.
D - Sometimes playing stupid does not work. At least in my world.
M - But...
D - Don´t you have two sons who live with you. Is it not their duty? Did you not tell them that Christmas is approaching?
M - They are too lazy and useless. I tried to threaten them, but they just don´t care.
D - Are you saying I am more materialistic?
M - Yes.
D - Ok, but I want a new scarf, in the colours I choose. I want one of those things, that is not a scarf and not a woolie hat, but can work as both. Like the white one I have.
M - Are you trying to buy me?
D - Yes. Remember the colours I choose.
M - Ok ok. As long as you get me this black thread.

On a different note.
The World Cup has started.
At the beginning of the year I conducted a research on the Seychelles islands. It is made by professionals and with an extereme attention to detail. Maximum rigorisity.
Below you can see a sample of the results (Click on the image to enlarge it).

From 2008 - 2009

The death of a former giant, 2009

2008 ended with the same thing as 2009 started, the smell of fireworks. I love the fireworks in Iceland, not the organised, methodic exhibition that occurs in other countries, but the chaotic, anarchic and individual fireworks of each household. Rocketing into the sky. One after another, you never know where to look or where to jump. It simply comes from each and one direction. This year it seem to be a much more subtle affair, only lasting for about 30 minutes, with the peak between midnight and fifteen minutes past midnight. Last year, it was meant to be less as there was a slight storm, but no. It was a total bombardment for about one hour. The noise was incredible, like the bird Kríur at an attack. My brother Magnús, said it sounded just like Palestina. I remember Jón Ásgeir shot up constantly with boxes full of them. I guess and hope that this year he was a bit quiter. Jón Ásgeir for those who might not know is one of the biggest villain of this crisis, a man that should be in jail, for continuously breaking the law in Iceland. Somehow he is not. People have seen him as a heroe, until now. He is the former owner of Glitnir (amongst others), and Baugur Group (the House of Fraser, Magasin du Nord etc). Enough of him. I just say he does not forget the sugar in the cookies (a classic comment in my home).


Frustration of a young man, 2009

On one of the first days of January, I experienced something I never had experienced before, and somehow kind of wanted to experience. The last ten minutes of a life. The hands reaching out, either grasping life or trying to enter the next level (although I am not sure I believe in that stuff). I will never forget the look in the eyes as death approached. The colour of the skin, the mouth, my own non sensations as I stopped to sense anything. Perhaps I am a pervert and I really would like to film someone I love dying, but it has to be someone who wants to go, who has had enough of life (as that moment might happen), enough of experiences and is just tired of life. Where death becomes a relief. I hope you meet your loved ones again, or that you are able to follow your loved ones in life. I sometimes think that I have angels following me (yes it sounds cheesy), but I am somehow quite lucky in many senses and I think I know who my angels are.


Rebirth, 2009

This year I am going to go to a fortune teller, there is a famous one, called Óli Draugur, Óli the ghost. I doubt I will talk about what happens there. I am scared, but also prepared. For 2009

I got new watercolour pans, lovely and I had to try them out, even if I should be doing something else. Here is the result. My favourite themes; sexy bodies and fragility.


Nipples, 2009

Barça, they continue with this conviction they left 2008 with.


Aiming high for the future, 2009


i am a mess, you are a mess, they are a mess, everyone is a mess, 2009
The only thing I am content with in this particular watercolour is its title.


Resurrection, 2009

Anecdotes

Anecdotes from Iceland
Edition of 50, printed on to the cheapest grey paper, put in an airmail envelope.
2007


Anecdotes from a hospital
Edition of 50, printed on to the cheapest beige paper, put in a brown b5 envelope.
2008

From Up There

Here are some pictures form up there. I wanted to use some of them for watercolours, although it is very difficult to paint snow, I think I might now the method in theory, but it is a different matter in practice.

Iceland was very good, I like the place, even if there are certain things about the society I find a bit disturbing.

I like its maniatic behaviour, perhaps I can even identify with it.
Soon, when the time is right I will do some more anecdotes. It will have to wait.

I am going in the opposite direction for now though.



This is just north of Reykjavik, on the way West. It was freezing, and even taking your hands to take the photograph was extremely painful.



In the middle of nowhere. I really like the landscape around Keflavik, or Reykjanesbaer as it called nowadays. There was a snowstorm, on a certain spot and one could only drive 1 metre, extremely slowly and then wait for it to clear for a second, then one metre, and so on. I was driving the car of my favourite Parliament member, who I trust for the improvement of one of my countries.



My favourite cafe in the whole wide world. Not just due to memories, I used to go there with my mother for a hot chocolate and waffles after my clarinet lessons. Every time I am in Iceland I go there. Just to sit and watch. This time I went there about four times and each time the same man was sitting in the corner table by the door and another man on another table. Regulars you see.



I laughed out loud, when I saw these pictures, when I went to collect them from the developing shop (yes that is the advantage of film, rather than the immediate format of digital photography). I also admit I did find it a bit strange and I was scared by that paw, who made no attempt in making me comfortable.

Child Labour or in the name of Family

I think at this moment I was influenced by Sally Mann, later it became more conceptual (perhaps).



Yrsa - In the past I have used my family for this and that, especially in the name of "art".
This was one of those occasions, where I not impulsively made something up, but actually thought it all through. I a sure it is written in a notebook which is now kept somewhere. I was very active, always writing things down and of course thinking of future master pieces.
This was a video I wanted to make, which had my brother acting in it.
He was taken to an area in Malmö full of factories, and asked to sit at this table shooting a rice corn by rice corn into the air. Yes one of these sufferable arty videos. No editing needed. Great actor.




Magnús - My brother later claimed this:
the story is lacking the dimension of time.

I did this for 2 x 2hours.

my payment: a chocolate pastry.

whohooo!

My friend Emelie, came with me, she had some kind of a key to a student film group, we entered there on a sunday and borrowed the camera, to make the video.
I wonder where the tape was. This was one of the many "activities" that we did to keep ourselves off the street.

Magnus is wearing my jacket and t-shirt. and I think Emelie is wearing my jumper and trousers. We borrowed my parents Volvo station, packed in a table, sacks of rice, and off we drove.

The Past

This is the beginning of my fascination for chess, although if you look clearly you can see why I never made the grade. This is shortly after the chess became a sexy sport in Iceland and somehwere on my blog you can see my art piece (part of it) on the meeting between Fischer and Spassky.



For some reason I find this photograph, very Bergmanesque. I am sneaking through my mothers tapestry.



This is an all time favourite. I sent it to a friend who was/is working with Baltasar Kormákur, and this was one of the inspiration images, for the main character. The film is filmed on Flatey - where I was baptised and it was a huge inspiration for the weaver. I think Guðmundur Páll took the picture.

Fischer vs. Spassky

Bobby Fischer
Boris Spassky
Two of Iceland’s Chess Champions in the last 10 years
A future Chess Champion of Iceland
Crowd from Iceland
Crowd from all over the world
Tv Crews
Sponsors, Organisers and other important people

Laugardalshöllin: the day after Fischer has beaten Spassky and claimed the new World Chess Champion. This will be their perhaps last goodbye to the Icelandic nation.
Fischer: (dressed in an immaculate white shirt, black loose tie and smart grey trousers), Even if I’m a member of the central committee now, (fiddling with a pencil) I can’t say anything too definite, as I want to keep my options, but I want to play a lot of chess and I like to play matches, ... I feel... you know... I want to play... a lot of (pauses)matches, you know, the money is there, it’s a question of money, not a question, you know of waiting three years, it’s a long time, a very long time.
Spassky: (dressed also in a white shirt, even more immaculate a blue tie and dark blue trousers) I agree.
Fischer: Definitely, yes. Definitely if the money is there, we are going (a long pause, where he turns his pen around his finger a few times) to have a return match, its no question emm... er...
Spassky: I agree.
(a young boy or girl, one can not tell shouts, In Iceland, there is a hush hush from presumably his dad)
Fischer: You can ... the Russians, made me wait a long time, you know, dishonesty and everything. It’s nothing personal you know, but you know what I am trying to say.
Spassky: Well (seems to look straight through Fischer)what can one say.

Both are now rocking back & forth in their chairs - like two dead men dancing.

Fischer: I feel bored now, not tired (a longish pause, where you can hear the audience breathing), I just want to get back in action, I am not interested in making some kind of spectacle of myself (he turns to the audience) I am interested in serious chess you know.

Spassky: You played very very well in the second half. I have (someone caughs in the audience, followed by a second and a third cough) to admit I felt under tremendous pressure in the last games, except for the last game. I can only think of it as a huge fish, which I had caught, but somehow I could not contain it, it was slippery and so I lost it.
Fischer: Hmmm.

(a long long long applause, which seems to last an eternity erupts, with Spassky and Fischer shaking hands before leaving to the back room, the cameras having focused on the two great masters, now aim their lenses at the Icelandic crowd for a few minutes, no one seems to want to leave, no one seems to want this magical moment to come to an end, but in the end the rooms becomes empty and the cameramen pack up, with no sign of neither Spassky nor Fischer).

Innocent Soul

I have just experienced something strange, while reading Barça i el Franquisme, I looked up, as my Catalan is not its best and I was trying to put one word in touch with another, making some sense out of them.
In front of me was a group of people, very Scottish in my confused and disperse way of looking at things. Then I see what is the motive of me wanting to remember the situation. This little kid, perhaps between 15 and 20, dressed in blue tracksuit bottoms and a grey sports jumper, on a day were I am wearing 7 layers of clothes, scarf, hat and gloves and double layer of socks (one made out of Icelandic wool). The women, a chubby tiny one, but not too schemie (ie. out of the schemes, of the back of a van selling second hand car radios) is handing over some money to the kid who has several teeth missing, dirty hair (most likely a junkie) and in her hand she is holding two packs of meat. The kid pus the rest of the meat (the ones he did not sell) back in his dirty rucksack and walks on to the next table (not mine) to find new customers. The group of people are discussing various recipes and I am noting down this experience. Perhaps I am too much of an innocent Nordic soul to fully grasp that not only illegal dvd's are sold in pubs.

Moments

Packed Sardines at the Airport
The Airport is overfull. All airplanes are on a hold, in a very chaotic situation, where no one has clear its destiny. It is unbelievable. A standstill due to weather. The planes that were due to arrive have not arrived, they have arrived in Glasgow instead. On one can do anything and obviously Icelandair takes no blame, as it all lies on an outer force. How convenient. There is a storm raging over the island, that has left it to later, that later that is in the indecisive future. The sight of it reminds me of a scene from Angel Exterminator by Buñuel. Most people keep a respectable calm, but it seems to be at a boiling point. Bodies in all corners and even in middle of corridors, huddling under blankets, with no water or bread. The worst thing and truly disruptive is that they took us out of bed at the Un Christian time of the darkest night, in the middle of the night, around 4 am, to bring us here in order to wait out the storm, liked packed sardines in a can, only we are at the airport, in the middle of the wastelands of Lava, on the edge of the world. The Icelandic travellers are wiping out the shelves of the duty free, it is excellent business for them, I was hoping for a cup of coffee, but no, we will have to contribute to their wealth. The monster of an aeroplane can do nothing against the danger of natural forces, who are above civilization and sophistication. Total chaos. All connections lost, all we can do is to stare at the screen in hope of a miracle that never arrives. I can hear from a distance, although it seems to be close to be an Italian screaming unpleasant sentences at this sentence. I just laugh nervously, not with joy, but the purest of all exhaustions at the scenery of bodies lying everywhere. It is like an emercency situation. All we can hope for is that when we do wake up from our nightmare, the weather has cleared and given us a green light to take off.

The Opera Singer
Walking through the corridors with my grandmother and my little sister. We were shown the exhibition that was taking place at the residency of old people. Paintings of landscapes, boats, sheep and farming, like you could imagine. Painted with love, history an great care. It is of items, that were close to the heart of that generation, experience, if you would like to use that description. We were going to visit my grandmother's friend in B2, the department were very ill people stay. A few years ago I went almost every day to have lunch with my grandmother, with her were three friends, amongst them Gunnlaug, who was at the time 82 years old. Three years later I came back for a visit and we went to B2, to see Gunnlaug, who was now older and in much worse health, as soon as she saw me, it was like my grandmother said, an enlightening, she completely shone up and there was a sparkle in her eyes, it was touching to see what a pure presence can make, only being somewhere can mean so much. When people get older, these little details are what matter in what can be days and days of routine. On the way to B2 we passed an old man in a wheelchair, sitting there which you often do, days on end you sit, like you are waiting for something...His hand reached out to firmly grasp my hand, I kindly and keenly reached my hands towards him and he would hold it tightly with my palm in his palm and his other hand on top of my hand and he said: "Are we related?", upon which I answered "not to my knowledge". He answered back with a clear and precise tone "I wish we were". On the way back from Gunnlaug, we passed the old man again, where he again reached out his hand to repeat the procedure, but he just wanted to wish me all luck. Shortly after me, my sister 13 years old walked, shy and timid, the old man, who was a famous opera singer in his time, reached this time his hand out for my little sister to say: "You are so beautiful". The little sister did almost not know what to say, she was quite embarrassed and just stuttered "Thank You". it was another of those moments of surprise at the residency.


The Library
The library is situated by the harbour with a magnificent view of the bay and the mountain Esja on the other side. The view indicates what kind of weather that the island is due to await. It is one of those places that is almost always full of people, as I am always there during the day I meet the same people each day. It is one of those places that is the home of the people on the outside of the society, and I am not suggesting I am on the outside of society. As on most days I arrived early afternoon, to read and work, it is a pleasure to work on the fifth floor with this wonderful view over the harbor and the bay and the few houses situated on the other side of the bay. After some hours of working I decided to have a little break and read the daily newspaper, I went down in the lift to the ground floor, which has been made into a readers corner. The paper I so much wanted to read was being read by a man or a woman, it was difficult to tell. I sat down on the table in order to be well positioned once the paper got free, meanwhile I pretended to be deep in thoughts. The man in front of me, had a long blond hair, permed hair, dressed in a reddish pink tracksuit top and broad corduroy trousers, this was as far as I could see, as I had to be discreet even if that was difficult. I kept glancing over my paper, the paper I was pretending to read, to see if the other paper was free, and each time I looked the man crossed himself, like a true and valid catholic, to my knowledge only a few percent of the population in Iceland are catholics and it was all a bit strange, each time I looked the man crossed himself, like I was some kind of devil, or some kind of evil force.


The fall
A mature woman, well into her nineties, had recently had an accident and broken her hip bone, she was recovering in hospital under the best doctors in the country. Often under these circumstances, that is the very end of a woman, the last days. This woman had had a rich life and under her belt was a varied experience of all matters a human being can go under. One night in the deepest winter, in a beautiful crisp cold night, she had a dream. There was some man trying to strangle her, she fought hard and once she managed to get the arm off her neck, she rose up in victory and fell out of the bed, only to break the other hip bone. But at least it was done under a victory.

London Thoughts

Went to this Algerian place in Hampstead, to have a coffee, delicious coffee with spices and a hint of rose water. The last streams of the Autumn sun were making its way in to the cafe.

Walking through Hampstead Heath, after looking at all those beautiful houses, one forgets this side of London, how life can be easy in London, that it is not all a struggle, I spot a man in a suit throwing himself on to the grass, reading his daily capsule of news.

What a great sense when there are four directions, each going into the path of the uncertain, where sense of security evaporates. It can bring a new dimension to ones life, four new dimensions.

Holly Lodge Mansions - council estate in Highgate (although probably not anymore).

Greek Taverna on 122 Junction Rd, this looks just amazing. Thyme hanging from the ceiling an Octopus sitting in the display refrigerator (and it is fresh looking).

Dalston Jazz Bar off Kingsland Rd, no jazz playing though to my disappointment. It would have been good with some Afro Jazz.
In Dalston there are also some hardcore places, especially two Russian ones. The Bar one looks like a cheap Rave bar from the former East countries, really tacky, but of good. The Club one just seems dodgy, further up there is a big illegal concrete room under a carpet shop open at nonethical hours.

Portobello Road, one goes quickly through the market, briefly stopping off at Garcia to buy some (dried chili) and my friend bought lots of things, amongst others Tetilla. I found it quite a strange thing to eat, while my friend just said "It is like a real breast". In those places one has to be careful to buy with the head instead of with the heart (unless it is at the start of the month).

I wanted to be a candlel snatcher. £ 30 is quite excessive though. Everything at the market is probably 3 times what you normally pay, but of course that takes some time. I am seriously looking for a brass candle snatcher.

There was a Morroccan cafe, full of men playing domino sipping mint tea, looked amazing, but we hesitated in going in.

The two Portuguese cafes look so good, one is kind of less fashionable (interior) wise - Lisboa and Oporto is slightly more welcoming. However it is Lisboa that has the fame and the pastries are simply delicious. It was packed and behind me was an old Portuguese lady talking to customers, especially the Portuguese young men. Just go there.

Want to visit Kew's Garden, Greenwich, Tottenham/Edmonton, Kilburn, V&A, next time I am in town. Not to forget the Colombia Flower Market - I lived on that street for seven years, but I don't think I visited the market more than a handful of times.

The best sandwiches are at Le Bouche, it is a very trendy place on Broadway Market, a place where the people beyond fashion seem to hang out. Whatever you say there products are AMAZING. Coffee, cakes and most of all their sandwiches.

To end my visit we went for a barbecue type of dish at a Turkish place. They do cheap meat on the grill ( I just hope they don't buy it from the butcher in Dalston, which smells) to round it off we went to a Turkish pastry shop for a Baclawa.

I really enjoy to visit London and it is so nice to see parts of it, that you have never seen, to go to different communites and just to walk around or take a bus route and see the city changing. So many other cities are quite homogenous, but London has something special (just a shame you need so much money).

One should not have to go through bureaucracy in order to arrange a meeting between two humans.

Ps. Pictures taking from the web. I will put my own soon (if I remember).

Animal Lover

This was my very own sheep, I fed it allowed it to suck my hand, and followed into all corners of the island, making sure it would not fall into a lake, or get hurt by the bigger sheep. I like the fact that it is a black sheep, find that quite amusing. Later on, as nature very often goes, it was sent to Stykkishólmur and the slaughterhouse there. I was deeply affected, but my bank account grew and I got a jumper and a hat out of it.

The farmer Svana on the island has about 300 sheeps (she is my mother's friend, remember in previous post where another farmer was mentioned). She keeps a notebook on all details of every sheep. Each sheep is marked in the air with a "tatoo" however she claims she recognises each sheep from a mile away just by its face, walk, run and sound. Truly impressive.


This was my favourite cow. I slept on her, next to her, ate the same food as her, everything and I milked her with great care. I think I spent more time with this cow than with any human being.

In Flatey there was also a wild wild bull, when it escaped the phone rang around the island (there were only about 20 houses) to break the news. It was one of these bulls who was "not a friend of humans". It was pure testerone and so aggressive. One day there was a rumour that me and a friend Lisa were with the bull. True I was walking under the bull and my friend walking in front of it stopping it every 2 metres to put some vaseline in its face, as we thought he would like it. We loved this bull and to everyones mystery - the bull seemed to love us.




I just loved this dog. It was my second best friend. His name was Lubbi.
I have a big collection of photos with animals, after slagging and bitching about bitches for almost an eternity, I just want to say: I love Animals.

Adiós The Devil (bichos/bitches/beasts)

I lost something like this jumper. :(
Like I mentioned in the previous post I was invaded, not by the wholy crusaders, but by the devil itself.
A few days have passed, but I am still obsessed.

What I have learnt is following:

* Throw away the worst infected clothes, preferably all infected clothes.
* With the ones who will not throw out, take them out of the drawer, hoover them not well but perversely well. Take them out into the garden and beat them, beat them and beat them. The eggs will still be in the garment, hoover them again, beat them again, hoover them again. Leave outside for 1 day. Wash them by hand with lavender soup, leave outside to dry (those bitches do not like sunlight), take to the dry cleaner, leave outside.
* With the drawer, you need to hoover the drawer really well, you do not want any eggs left there. Wash it with lavender soup, leave out in daylight, was again, leave outside for two days. Hoover again and wash again. If it was really badly affected, I would get a pest control firm to take care of it.
* Hoover everything in your room, all little corners, everything. Wash floor and if the invasion was bad, the walls with lavender soup.
* Personally I can't stand those chemical moth balls, that make you smell like a looser. I bought some herbal ones, but I also recommend cedar wood and lavender leafs to leave in your wardrobe.
* Now with the wardrobe and house clean you should be able to put your clothes back in the drawer, bring them back from the dry cleaner. Having the garments washed thoroughly it should free them of eggs and other disgusting rests of the bitch.


The bitches do seem to LOVE the Icelandic Lopi(wool).
The fact is that I am moving in 2 weeks and I DO NOT want to take the bitches with me. I hope that my method will work and not one sign of them in the new place.

SRH

The Master, I wanted to have these pictures in the blueberry picking post, but here they come.

SRH in action.


Looking for the perfect spot, browsing, inspecting, looking, patience.

This Is The Devil

Please help me to beat the Devil.


Dear Bug Clinic,

To be horror I opened up a drawer yesterday, as I am about to move. What I discovered was a jumper full of moths, I heard something falling into the cardboard box, perhaps eggs, it was quite a prominent sound, then I took it away and hoovered it and hug holes became visible. It went straight in the bin outside my house, the next was a jumper next to it, which did not seem that moth ridden, still has some holes in it, but I hoovered it, it is in a plastic bag, but I am not sure if I should throw it out or if it rescuable. What happens after you discover some holes, but it seems clear of eggs and things like that. Can you hang it outside and it will become moth free?
I guess I should bring it to the dry cleaner. In the drawer underneath I had some other clothes, but they seem ok, they have all been hovered and left out. I read somewhere that they do not like day light so I have left them in bright rooms. Is there something I should do, perhaps also take them to the dry cleaner. Once you have them how can you get rid of them?

I would really appreciate any help as this is quite a disturbing matter for me.
Many Thanks,
Yrsa