This was supposed to have posted a few weeks ago! anyway:
My dreams are rarely anything but nightmares, but I hadn't had any in so long. And even though they are often terrifying, it still feels like such an integral part of me that when I stopped dreaming as much for a while, I was pretty saddened by it. Dreaming the dreams I do makes me feel like my brain is always doing this wild creative work. When they dimmed, part of me felt like it meant my mind had dimmed.
Anyway, I'm happy to present to you my two most recent dreams, back to back:
One: Once I started my Yom Kippur fast and had fallen to sleep, I clung to the sharp edge where the beach met the cliff. I braced myself as a 200 or 300 foot tall wave crashed against the cliff. It kept pushing and pushing but I did not suffer it's impact. What I did have to do was wait. Wait for all the rushing water to stop going towards the cliff and start and to pull away. It was cold. I had a pocket of air I had somehow trapped in a crevasse of the cliff with my arm but the oxygen was thinning. I did not know how much longer I had to wait. And I knew that when the time came, I would have to hold on with all that was in me so I wouldn't get pealed into the deep sea. I was feeling weaker and hoped the air would last, and that I would be able to hold on; so trapped and so terrified of what was to come. (I don't remember waking up but it was before the water pulled away, possibly I had run out of air)
Two: I remember waking up from a dream, but I wasn't sure it was a dream. I thought maybe it is reality. But I also thought: it was crazy, how could I believe it? Scared, unable to tell what was real from what wasn't as Matt brought my to the ER and I thought that my sanity had gone, that I was in the midst of a psychotic break.
Thursday, November 2, 2017
Sunday, September 10, 2017
Fenway Garden
Yesterday I went to small photo exhibit which had the work of my high school photo teacher. I quickly reverted to how awkward I was back then; felt odd in my body and stilted in conversation. Almost funny.
Now I'm home and making dinner. Most of today I walked Boston with Anna: the Christian Church of Science was a strange place to stop on our way to the MFA's exhibit on The Summer of Love (hyper-saturated posters and black and white photos from San Francisco)
The best part of the day though, by far, was going by this expansive garden called The Fenway Garden Society. Hundreds of plots, each curated in a different way: some lovingly cultivated flowers, others have very pragmatic vegetable plots, still others have little fountains and arched veins over benches, some with Asian influences with lily-pads and bamboo, others European down to little bird baths (and a very striking bird dancing around the edge) and even spruce and other trees. And it's sizable, so you can walk up and down the rows and feel lost in the little worlds: passed a man reading a book, Labrador by his side, an older couple watering their garden and a young woman watering hers across the path, one garden on the edge audibly buzzing from bees attracted to spearmint.
Now I'm home and making dinner. Most of today I walked Boston with Anna: the Christian Church of Science was a strange place to stop on our way to the MFA's exhibit on The Summer of Love (hyper-saturated posters and black and white photos from San Francisco)
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| self portrait in pot of rice |
The best part of the day though, by far, was going by this expansive garden called The Fenway Garden Society. Hundreds of plots, each curated in a different way: some lovingly cultivated flowers, others have very pragmatic vegetable plots, still others have little fountains and arched veins over benches, some with Asian influences with lily-pads and bamboo, others European down to little bird baths (and a very striking bird dancing around the edge) and even spruce and other trees. And it's sizable, so you can walk up and down the rows and feel lost in the little worlds: passed a man reading a book, Labrador by his side, an older couple watering their garden and a young woman watering hers across the path, one garden on the edge audibly buzzing from bees attracted to spearmint.
Saturday, September 9, 2017
lemon
I have so many things to write about/which is sometimes a problem because I really like doing things in chronological order!
anyway, today I went to the liquor store and bought Everclear. The cashier just said "everclear...nice" and I said "it's getting cut, not planning to kill myself" "that's good" she said, nodding her head.
in a few weeks ill have some limoncello. anybody know what to do with ten rindless lemons?
anyway, today I went to the liquor store and bought Everclear. The cashier just said "everclear...nice" and I said "it's getting cut, not planning to kill myself" "that's good" she said, nodding her head.
in a few weeks ill have some limoncello. anybody know what to do with ten rindless lemons?
Saturday, July 29, 2017
Geysir, Gullfoss and a Hydroelectric Dam
I was genuinely hoping that WOW air would refund us some of the money we lost getting a last minute room in Reykjavik and getting toiletries. Our plan was to start driving the first day and camp out but since our tent was still in US along with our toothbrushes and most everything else, we had to find a place to sleep. Unfortunately, as of now, nothing. We e-mailed them multiple times to get only initial responses, and called only to be told to wait even longer than we already have. *UGH*
After that we tried to find our first natural-hot-water. Our guide book had mentioned a municipal geothermal pool. We came to the Laugarvatn, consisting of two residential streets intercepting. The village pool was closed: we wandered around the building and saw the pool, which looked like a standard swimming pool but did not smell of chlorine. All the lights were off in the building and a family was just leaving. It felt like we were snooping around a YMCA. There was a place we could have paid 40$ but that seemed a bit much so after finding the YMCA bathroom, we moved on.
And then we went to Gullfoss. Foss is waterfall, remember? Gull is gold - gold waterfall. As, again, with the wind so cold we were spared the thicket of tourists that should have followed us everywhere on this trip, but also we did not have the light that perhaps contributed to the waterfall's name. Gullfoss is really large, and I while I did take pictures they don't capture how small we felt standing next to it. We spent some time in existential trepidation staring at the water crashing down.
One of the places my father had really talked up in Iceland was this meeting of two rivers in the Fjallbank Nature Reserve, specifically the Landmannalauger area. Even the handy guidebook highlighted the hot streams in the area, along with some hiking through gorgeous rhyolite peaks. The specific area my parents had enjoyed there was a cold river that met a hot river, and a lot of cool people where hanging out there: bikers, hikers and such, and the water was perfect for relaxing in. So we headed towards there, into the highlands where civilization became even sparser.
We drove for a while. At some point late we stopped at an old stone Skaftholtsréttir (sheep fold) no longer in use. It used to sort the sheep in the south but now they use a more modern one closer to the capital. It was 11pm. I was too tired to even get out of the car but Matt was intrigued by the random-maze we found and stopped to explore and figure out what it is. There was nobody else there. Even though there was an official plaque it isn't marked on any maps. Long-day induced magic. We kept driving.
We came up on a hydroelectric dam. It was menacing but the road forward was roped off. We set up our tent for the first time, the wind blowing, no trees to protect us. I had been thinking this whole time that park meant trees but it was now that it dawned on me that this word mapping did not apply in this strange land. We set up our tent; it was cold and the sun had set but it was still light out even at 1am. Just as we entered the tent for the night, it began to snow.
also the second Yucca plant is now also gone for the worse. Help?
We slept that night at Captain Reykjavik, took sulfer-scented showers and headed over to the Sandholt bakery. The museum ticket we had bought yesterday lasted for 24hrs and allowed entry to 3 museums, so we headed to the sculpture museum. It's in an artists house and though it was at that time simply filled with his work, there where three small things I liked about it.
1) the dome upstairs had the strangest acoustics. It felt like I was walking ahead of myself, the way of the echo of Matt's shoes lined up exactly with when I was about to step. Like the opposite of a thunderclap being delayed after lightening strikes, or an auditory version of the rubber hand illusion.
1) the dome upstairs had the strangest acoustics. It felt like I was walking ahead of myself, the way of the echo of Matt's shoes lined up exactly with when I was about to step. Like the opposite of a thunderclap being delayed after lightening strikes, or an auditory version of the rubber hand illusion.
2) The artist had created the building, it's white and stark . He said he wanted to make it like the stark land around him, that Icelandic architecture is often made of wood even though there are no trees, and that this is not the way it is supposed to be; that architecture is supposed to expand off of the landscape. It made me pay more attention to the buildings for the rest of the trip.
3) There was a sculpture garden outside with little windy paths and thickets of trees, and I always find those types of nooks warm and inviting. Not very expansive, but still nice.
We walked around a golf course before heading to get groceries (always great in a new place: the aisles are wider, and the carts are four-wheel drive), sushi for lunch, propane and our luggage.
From Reykjavik we started on the Golden Circle and the Southwest of Iceland. First stop was Þingvellir. Two things attract people to it. Firstly it's a rift between tectonic plates, though that comes across more clearly in ariel shots. Secondly it is by Alþing, the location of the first parliament in the world, which isn't really much to look at. We walked to Öxarárfoss (foss is always waterfall) in the area. Iceland has so many gorgeous waterfalls, and we started ranking them as we carved our way around the coast: this one consistently stayed in last place. In sum, mostly a tourist destination with a pool in which a bunch of women where drowned.
From Reykjavik we started on the Golden Circle and the Southwest of Iceland. First stop was Þingvellir. Two things attract people to it. Firstly it's a rift between tectonic plates, though that comes across more clearly in ariel shots. Secondly it is by Alþing, the location of the first parliament in the world, which isn't really much to look at. We walked to Öxarárfoss (foss is always waterfall) in the area. Iceland has so many gorgeous waterfalls, and we started ranking them as we carved our way around the coast: this one consistently stayed in last place. In sum, mostly a tourist destination with a pool in which a bunch of women where drowned.
After that we tried to find our first natural-hot-water. Our guide book had mentioned a municipal geothermal pool. We came to the Laugarvatn, consisting of two residential streets intercepting. The village pool was closed: we wandered around the building and saw the pool, which looked like a standard swimming pool but did not smell of chlorine. All the lights were off in the building and a family was just leaving. It felt like we were snooping around a YMCA. There was a place we could have paid 40$ but that seemed a bit much so after finding the YMCA bathroom, we moved on.
Next stop was Geysir: the gyser after which all other geysers are named. It was freezing outside but we did not have to wait long for it to spout. The water is blue in the pit, and before it gets ready to spray it gets sucked in a bit. Ten minutes in between expulsions builds up appropriate suspense. The one that was spouting was actually not THE Great Geysir but Strokkur, which is younger and erupts more frequently but with less intensity. The pictures I took turned out fairly terribly, so here's one of me with the snarky entrance sign too.
And then we went to Gullfoss. Foss is waterfall, remember? Gull is gold - gold waterfall. As, again, with the wind so cold we were spared the thicket of tourists that should have followed us everywhere on this trip, but also we did not have the light that perhaps contributed to the waterfall's name. Gullfoss is really large, and I while I did take pictures they don't capture how small we felt standing next to it. We spent some time in existential trepidation staring at the water crashing down.
One of the places my father had really talked up in Iceland was this meeting of two rivers in the Fjallbank Nature Reserve, specifically the Landmannalauger area. Even the handy guidebook highlighted the hot streams in the area, along with some hiking through gorgeous rhyolite peaks. The specific area my parents had enjoyed there was a cold river that met a hot river, and a lot of cool people where hanging out there: bikers, hikers and such, and the water was perfect for relaxing in. So we headed towards there, into the highlands where civilization became even sparser.
We drove for a while. At some point late we stopped at an old stone Skaftholtsréttir (sheep fold) no longer in use. It used to sort the sheep in the south but now they use a more modern one closer to the capital. It was 11pm. I was too tired to even get out of the car but Matt was intrigued by the random-maze we found and stopped to explore and figure out what it is. There was nobody else there. Even though there was an official plaque it isn't marked on any maps. Long-day induced magic. We kept driving.
We came up on a hydroelectric dam. It was menacing but the road forward was roped off. We set up our tent for the first time, the wind blowing, no trees to protect us. I had been thinking this whole time that park meant trees but it was now that it dawned on me that this word mapping did not apply in this strange land. We set up our tent; it was cold and the sun had set but it was still light out even at 1am. Just as we entered the tent for the night, it began to snow.
Monday, June 26, 2017
Yucca Cane
At the Kjarvalsstaðir art museum, we stumble for a second time on the work of Ragnar Kjartansson. The entire museum was a retrospective on him, the big one being an almost endless opera piece with multiple pianos and singers set up surround-sound in a large hall. Walking around the hall allowed for interaction of music/space and the social aspect that comes with knowing that the performers are there for the whole day and so walk in and out to supply themselves with more water and switch pairings and stop playing for a little bit; the dance of life happening during a concert you could walk through.
This was exciting because on our first trip together, Matt and I had seen the same artists work in Montreal. And though I'm still more excited about the piece we saw in Canada, it was pleasantly serendipitous. (and, still without a tent, we used the museum's wifi to book a room for the night.) Now - another hall had photographs hung on the walls, and yucca cane plants and boom boxes on the floor. I don't remember if there was any sound but I'm going to take a step back to the Yucca cane.
The only reason I know what that is is because Matt and I had recently acquired one for our apartment. This happened maybe three weeks before we left for the trip. I love plants. I have a few and I like that they add life the the kitchen, but also decided not to get too many more because Matt likes space to look neat, and visually plants are more chaotic than neat. But one day Matt was looking around and decided that we need a plant, urgently, because there was what felt like a hole in the room. Since I had felt that hole for a while (and in many other places; I like spaces to be crammed) we soon found ourselves at Ricky's Flower Shop a few minutes drive away. The place is like Mary Poppin's handbag: bigger on the inside than it is on the outside, filled with all sorts of leafy-friends to take home. We looked at three different pots filled with three yucca canes each and finally picked one out and took it home with us. A plant is like a pet that you don't need clearance for from your landlord. I was quite happy with our exotic new addition.
I don't know when it happened, but it was sad: perhaps the middle cane came to us ill, or it simply because ill soon upon entering our abode. In either case, it started to wilt and droop and ooz terribly stinky black goop. Trying the clean it up my hands got covered in the stench with the slightest dab of sap. I read up on the internet on how to help the infirm plant, and bought insecticide. And I sprayed it daily with the smelly all-natural insecticide. And when we left for Iceland we had a weak hope that it would make it. The plant only needs to be watered about once every two weeks, so this trip was perfect in terms of watering.When we returned it had clearly made a turn for the worse. It reeked, and as I tried to pull it out of the ground the bark pealed off into my hands. And since the other two were perfectly happy as they were, we went for the kill. It looks like a murder-crime scene, ft yucca plant The other two are still healthy: may they not grow too quickly.
This was exciting because on our first trip together, Matt and I had seen the same artists work in Montreal. And though I'm still more excited about the piece we saw in Canada, it was pleasantly serendipitous. (and, still without a tent, we used the museum's wifi to book a room for the night.) Now - another hall had photographs hung on the walls, and yucca cane plants and boom boxes on the floor. I don't remember if there was any sound but I'm going to take a step back to the Yucca cane.
The only reason I know what that is is because Matt and I had recently acquired one for our apartment. This happened maybe three weeks before we left for the trip. I love plants. I have a few and I like that they add life the the kitchen, but also decided not to get too many more because Matt likes space to look neat, and visually plants are more chaotic than neat. But one day Matt was looking around and decided that we need a plant, urgently, because there was what felt like a hole in the room. Since I had felt that hole for a while (and in many other places; I like spaces to be crammed) we soon found ourselves at Ricky's Flower Shop a few minutes drive away. The place is like Mary Poppin's handbag: bigger on the inside than it is on the outside, filled with all sorts of leafy-friends to take home. We looked at three different pots filled with three yucca canes each and finally picked one out and took it home with us. A plant is like a pet that you don't need clearance for from your landlord. I was quite happy with our exotic new addition.
I don't know when it happened, but it was sad: perhaps the middle cane came to us ill, or it simply because ill soon upon entering our abode. In either case, it started to wilt and droop and ooz terribly stinky black goop. Trying the clean it up my hands got covered in the stench with the slightest dab of sap. I read up on the internet on how to help the infirm plant, and bought insecticide. And I sprayed it daily with the smelly all-natural insecticide. And when we left for Iceland we had a weak hope that it would make it. The plant only needs to be watered about once every two weeks, so this trip was perfect in terms of watering.When we returned it had clearly made a turn for the worse. It reeked, and as I tried to pull it out of the ground the bark pealed off into my hands. And since the other two were perfectly happy as they were, we went for the kill. It looks like a murder-crime scene, ft yucca plant The other two are still healthy: may they not grow too quickly.
Sunday, June 25, 2017
Sleep Deprived in Reykjavik
We landed in Keflavik International Airport at 4:35 am. I had not slept on the plane. Dragging through a bog of exhaustion, we found our way to Joe and the Juice. We drank our shake/juice, and then we made our way down to the baggage claim.
A note on Joe and The Juice: it is a chain, there are two spots at the airport and at least two in Reykjavik. The name, it isn't a good one, refers to the fact that they have both a juicing machine and a coffee machine. The name, and the exact type of terrible that it is, is a good representation of the names of shops we found in Reykjavik. Names are: idontspeakicelandic (tourist shop) bad taste (music shop) farmers and friends (like words with friends! but not a cross-word puzzle game, an expensive clothing store!)
Once I woke up, we headed to the Kjarvalsstaðir art museum. Then we walked along the river, entered the Harpa music building and finally collapsed in our hotel room bed at Captainn Reykjavik (which considering we had found only a few hours previously, was quite nice)
We slept for three hours and went to Matwork for food. We kept looking around and almost choosing places to eat because they were called Matthis and thisMat(t). Turns out Matur means food, not a shortened Matthew. I fell asleep, after a very long day, at 11:30 pm. Matt fell asleep at 1am, and it was still light out.
A note on Joe and The Juice: it is a chain, there are two spots at the airport and at least two in Reykjavik. The name, it isn't a good one, refers to the fact that they have both a juicing machine and a coffee machine. The name, and the exact type of terrible that it is, is a good representation of the names of shops we found in Reykjavik. Names are: idontspeakicelandic (tourist shop) bad taste (music shop) farmers and friends (like words with friends! but not a cross-word puzzle game, an expensive clothing store!)
Many tourists are from the US, UK or Canada, insuring a lot of English is spoken around you - and leading to most signs and all tourism workers speaking at least some English. We were lucky: we were earlier in the season and the weather wasn't always great, so we managed to avoid some of the tourist hoards. But they certainly exist, and I think the weirdly English-named shops are a good indication of that. From the USA, more tourists come than there are native Icelanders; and we are hardly the only ones.
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| Matt sarcastically approved me putting up this photo if I labeled it as sarcasm. Joe as famous sculpture. |
We walked down and looked and looked and did not find our baggage. We filled out forms and found out that the next incoming flight from Boston is not for another 24hrs. So we walked out of the airport with only our backpacks and picked up the 4wd rental (a silver Suzuki Vitara) and drove towards Bergsson Mathús to get breakfast. After this my mind started drifting off to sleep: we managed to climb to the top of Hallgrímskirkja (a contemporary-looking church) but after that I dozed off in the car.
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| view from Hallgrímskirkja |
Once I woke up, we headed to the Kjarvalsstaðir art museum. Then we walked along the river, entered the Harpa music building and finally collapsed in our hotel room bed at Captainn Reykjavik (which considering we had found only a few hours previously, was quite nice)
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| from inside Harpa music hall |
We slept for three hours and went to Matwork for food. We kept looking around and almost choosing places to eat because they were called Matthis and thisMat(t). Turns out Matur means food, not a shortened Matthew. I fell asleep, after a very long day, at 11:30 pm. Matt fell asleep at 1am, and it was still light out.
Sunday, June 18, 2017
Packing for Iceland
Dear Reader:
I know I have long been absent. If you have been here in the past I am surprised by you; that my distance has not created an un-passable abyss. I apologize. I thank you. I will try to be better, as many of us try.
Today I woke up in the US again, back in Somerville.
On Sunday, The 4th of this month, I was here as well, packing.
Things I forgot to pack: cold medication, camera battery charger, a warm hat, gloves.
Things I did not forget: all the camping gear, sweaters and warm socks, a camera with low battery.
And so, Matt and I caught a ride to the airport, checked our bags (19.5kg for the heavier one, perfect) and got in line. Matt's carry-on getting slowly examined on the side for unknown reasons and we sprinted through Logan and were the last ones onto the flight.
Things we knew to expect: white nights, gravel roads, sheep, hotsprings
Things we did not know to expect: the wind, getting sick, endless volcano fields
And so starts our trip to Iceland
I know I have long been absent. If you have been here in the past I am surprised by you; that my distance has not created an un-passable abyss. I apologize. I thank you. I will try to be better, as many of us try.
Today I woke up in the US again, back in Somerville.
On Sunday, The 4th of this month, I was here as well, packing.
Things I forgot to pack: cold medication, camera battery charger, a warm hat, gloves.
Things I did not forget: all the camping gear, sweaters and warm socks, a camera with low battery.
And so, Matt and I caught a ride to the airport, checked our bags (19.5kg for the heavier one, perfect) and got in line. Matt's carry-on getting slowly examined on the side for unknown reasons and we sprinted through Logan and were the last ones onto the flight.
Things we knew to expect: white nights, gravel roads, sheep, hotsprings
Things we did not know to expect: the wind, getting sick, endless volcano fields
And so starts our trip to Iceland
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