in the land of ice and fire

Edmond Haraucourt 1856-1941, French poet To go away is to die a little. / It is to die to that which one loves: everywhere and always, one leaves behind a part of oneself. To leave is to die a little... one leaves behind a little of oneself at any hour, at any place.

I have left my home in London early sunday morning, waved bye bye to Jurgen the cat who gave me a strage look from the window as i dragged a big suitcase toward the tube station.i have land in Reykjavik sunday afternoon.
I stayed the first night guest of my friend Timo and took a bus early morning for Skagastrong in the north. I will be at NES Artist Residency for the months of February and March. It's the first time in 10 years that i leave London longer than two weeks.
Iceland is stunning and very different from what I imagined: no snow despite the freezing cold. The land is dark, vulcanic rocks and no trees. Bare dark ground. The grass is dark yellow and covered by a layer of frost.

The roads are almost empty and the bus passes lakes, frozen rivers and waterfalls. As we proceed toward the north the clouds seem to touch the ground.
After changing bus I get to Skagastrond around 1.
For two months i will have a "home", a lovely little room in a flat share. Other 9 artists will be here at NES Artist Residence. So exciting!
I will be here for two months to develop my own photographic work