A thought on (in)visibility

March 25, 2013 § Leave a comment

What good does it do to be invisible? What is worthwhile about the pursuit of invisibility, in this my body, a vessel for so much reflected disappointment and unattainable legitimate existence? What good is it to be visible.

Every inch of the space I inhabit gives way to expectations of what I must do, or ought to do, as a visible object. And what can I do to control myself as this object and image both desired and desiring of acknowledgement and refusal?



March 23, 2013 § Leave a comment

I used to think that Amnesiac was the best Radiohead album. Pyramid Song just takes me away. The piano introduction is paced in this way akin to a struggled walk up a sheer cliff face. The moments of securing a foot placement. That act of scraping and carving a place where security can be assured. His voice lends an air of self instituted isolation, the feeling that my struggle is for a greater good only I will experience. When the percussion starts, it starts to affect my breathing, internal power, fearless. Even with a feeling of being up against a wall, clinging to a precarious situation, It makes me feel like I can manoeuvre to a place of safety.

There There from Hail to the Thief. I meditate on the burden of having to think the same thing over and over. It feels like a hand snaking up my neck, fingers sliding over my nape, and wanting that person to take over the movement of my body. But I shake them off. I want to run, dive, crawl and press my body to the earth repeatedly. The song is about possibility. I love how it builds to the guitars, rolling, pushing you, slapping and snapping at your heals. faster, faster – run right into everything you were supposed to do.

It is dark. The sky is blue, a very dark blue. The moon is half full. The incident of light is enough to illuminate the shapes of the hills flanking the car. They are snow carved and the white proceeds in neon glory. It is against the white that you can perceive the black earth and rocks. They exist in relief, absence and are retracted. The sky has just enough colour left that the edge of the hill can be determined, a soft but stark line, rolling out the shape of this piece of earth thrust up. Everything In Its Right Place feels like this mountain, hill, earth. Cold, still able to be determined. Perfect if just for that rolling moment.

Is this love? Exit Music (For A Film) makes me remember an escape. One not remembered by me specifically, but recalled through the memories of others. I was there. Old enough to have memories, as I surely do of this house and time. There was a car. it had a window at the back of the boot that could be wound down. I usually think my memories of that place are real. But have I told them to myself? The expanse of land all around the house. I was a child then. That girl was me not yet grown and she is still standing there, watching the house recede. In someone else’s memory.

‘You should work on your appearance.’

March 20, 2013 § Leave a comment

Photo on 20-03-13 at 4.28 PM


Photo on 20-03-13 at 4.29 PM


Photo on 20-03-13 at 4.30 PM


I collected black sand, washed it methodically with my bare hands, picking it over for rocks, removing them piece by piece from pebbles to small seed size.

The sand sparkles like black diamonds. Am I more beautiful now?

Skagaströnd day 16

March 19, 2013 § Leave a comment

There is another snow storm today, the wind is high and outside is all white, can just see the wood workshop across the street.

A few people in the studios yesterday were looking at the weather maps and it showed pinks and purples on the wind scale. This means winds of 40-50km per hour, with snow. The wind chill will likely mean the temp feels like -14 celsius, while the actual temperature is about -4.

People who are here now, like Margaret who lives in Dawson City in the Yukon is used to it being much colder, but for me and also Lidia, who is from Brazil, the weather is something of a revelation.

I took some video last night of the snow fall as it was just starting up and it looks like stars. That will be a work I think, the atmosphere of a weather experience is more celestial than imagined.

I have not left the house today and am concerning myself with household duties which I have been neglecting. I ordered a bunch of art supplies, ink and paper and watercolours, they should arrive in the post in the next few days and I am really interested in seeing what I can produce in that way (not my usual mediums).

I am also cultivating some moss, which has just started to peek through the snow and ice which blankets a lot of the ground. Some of it is so vibrant, a plush carpet, some is like a thick spongy blanket, and others are strands like hair that weave and course over rocks, dirt, weeds…

You need help

March 18, 2013 § Leave a comment


The northern lights were beautiful last night due to a big solar flare recently. I didn’t take this image, Andrew Rewald did. They were dancing a lot, morphing, and I saw gradations into a slight lilac and also orange.

I took a walk on one of the beaches today and found the perfect spot to launch my boat. I will probably do a lot of on-site construction there also as its a little walk aways and I had to jump across some ice sheets where a snow melt river is running into the sea.

As this part of the beach there is a larger stone island about 200 metres or so off shore? That is my main goal. Just a little bit further down is one, about 50 metres or maybe even less from the shore, which I can use to practice.

I collected a bunch of stones from the beach, and some black sand for a drawing project I am doing of maps of my childhood home.

I also have some plans for an extended immersive performance piece I am calling “You need help.”

ég er hreiður og hellir

March 13, 2013 § 5 Comments





Am I so cautious? I dreamed I was a beast, covered in hair, and I slept in a nest of hair. Then I awoke, thrashing about, and outside the top of the mountain was covered by a dark cloud. Up on the top, on the flat table of rock that is the peak, my hair bristled and shook at the dawn.

hljóð og dvöl

March 13, 2013 § Leave a comment

the river is swollen beneath the ice and her sound is an echo of intent.

Where Am I?

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