My love of water, wind, fire and rock, my comfort with cold and hot and harsh terrain must come from my Icelandic roots. The light there is so delicate, but the land is so gnarly, with crevices in the lava fields and emerald green moss like a 2 foot deep carpet and ponytails of straw where the sheep graze. It is a strange place, where life is lived on the edge of the daylight, and darkness pervades for most of the year. The colours are muted, the sky is pale, the waters transfix with a blue so ethereal that it pulls you close to the boiling hot geysers. The air is so pure that it intoxicates with every breath.
Iceland is a land of contrasts. Away from everything yet with a creative heartbeat that pumps out artists like Bjork and Sukar Ros. An independent country, with citizens who are prolific travellers but who seldom have visitors. A country misnamed, for it is not a land of only ice, but rather a land of rich contrasts.
Icelanders have had to be resourceful and resilient, just in order to survive this harsh land of volcanoes and stormy seas. They inspire me to do the same. To appreciate the subtleties of colour and texture, to make do and do well, but most of all to be independent in my creative process and wait for the world to notice.
