Week 9: Gentle atoms
LungA School Fall Semester 2018
Paragraph 9 Duration: Performance key: Situation key:
168 hours Oscillation between learning and unlearning Unraveling the fabric of Reality/reality
resolution
dissolution
EXTRA-CURRICULAR Writing / Reading workshop with Nanna Spejlborg Juelsbo
Anatomy of a Puddle ... Puddle 4 Across the road is a giant puddle, so large it is almost a small lake. It presents us the lower part of the mountain; it’s rivulets; it’s military green. Movement in the air smears across the side of the mountain, grease-like. Now the last of the green grass on the other side of the fjord finds its way to this side. The mountain is at our feet, but it always evades. As we approach it the masts of boats poke into view, followed by the top of lamp post. Walking across the road the grass that grows out of the puddle intersperses with dappled spots of snow from the peak, enclosed by orange sun-soaked rock and all at once the line of the peaks and the blue sky. Ripples animate the scene, accelerating its escape. The sky bounces by as you walk past, turning from impressionist to cubist where the puddle has iced over. ...
Claire
Isaiah
Can you feel it Can you feel it The explosion of energy pulsing through my veins Can you feel it Hands shaking - Lips quivering - heart pounding Tourists walk by and I I struggle to look down To hold it in ------An image of the same movement Lived in a different way Eyes wide shaking their shoulders “wake up! Do you see me?” -----Pushing myself further – over the edge Too much and I will burn Fuck it let me burn Let me burn before I fly away Knowing full well that I Will be greeted with a massive splash Buckets of ice Extinguishing the fire ------What will I make of the embers Remnants of a new self Images lingering – flames Memories of images of flames Will there be enough Will there be enough To relight
Fanny
A song for a lonely world
Sing it louder Let it reach the top of the mountain Let it reach the end of the universe Let it float down to the bottom of the ocean Let it resonate like this in infinity Trying so desperately to let go But still finding comfort in old patterns Is the worst kind of safety Falmene fornemmelser forgår forhåbentligt Jeg kan ikke trække vejret Vejr Jeg kan ikke trækket vejret Kan ikke trække vejret Jeg kan ikke trække vejret I CAN’T BREATHE LET ME BREATHE Ikke trække vejret Jeg kan Ikke Trække vejret I CAN’T BREATHE Jeg kan ikke trække vejret Kan ikke Kan
Trække vejret Breathe Jeg drømmer stadig om os nogle gange Vi danser i måneskinnet Med sand under fødderne. Når vi er her falmer vi ikke i mørket. Dine fingrespidser rør mine Og vi flyder i vandet Jeg vågner op igen Og er klar over At det ikke er muligt. Det er det hårdeste At stå fast som klipper I stormen at indse at du nogen gange er svag at opleve styrken I svaghed Ensomheden oplever at være alene I helheden. Verdenen anerkender sin forbindelse til ensomheden. Til fællesskabet. At opleve at være alene, at bruge ensomheden til hele verdenen. Idag ligger skyerne lavt At bade I havet er ikke længere
svært Jeg minds om at jeg er 90% vand Og at alt inde I mig også svømmer rundt uden større menning, Men alligevel med så meget menning, At jeg, hvis jeg ligger helt stille, kan mærke cellerne bevæge sig. Og at man, selv I et lydtæt rum, kan høre blodet pumpe og nervesystemet arbejde. Vi burde tage en fridag Vi burde tage hele livet fri Jeg har taget fri idag for at bade I vandet Og huske at jeg også er 90% vand Man holder. Man træder. Man vinder. Man træder. Man bevæger sig. man holder sig. Tålmodighed At træde terræn. tilbage. Når man vil vil fremad. Tålmodighed Vi går alene. Vi går sammen Sådan er det hele tiden. Bølgerne knækker, Bølgerne trækker sig tilbage
SĂĽdan er det hele tiden I remember floating in water I remember being a fish floating in the deep blue water I remember seeing stars shaped as a cloud and a cloud shaped as stars I remember being out of air I remember running in another world I remember running towards another world I remember swimming to the surface for air I remember finding nothing but the echo of your presence there I remember sleeping because it felt easier than waking up I remember seeing I remember the first time i saw myself without looking in the mirror I remember looking in the mirror and seeing something unrecognisable I remember that company in a lonely world is not really company I remember picking flowers I remember naked bodies in the ocean
I remember not being ashamed I remember a time before time or at least i would like to remember it I remember being happy I remember feeling safe I remember songs for a dying world I remember forming shapes with my body I remember feeling disconnected I remember flying just close enough to the ground I remember being a floating forest Often I dream that I am a sea creature living deep in the ocean Deep down where the water is no longer coloured crystal blue by the energy of the sun. Deep down where life exists in another place. Where every movement extends beyond us A place with no up or down. A place where we never swim up to catch our breath, because we breathe with water. A place where gravity doesn’t pull our bodies down. A place where we are constantly
floating. In the ocean of nothing, which then becomes everything. Floating in, floating out Floating in, floating out Breathing in, breathing out Breathing in, floating out Floating in, floating out Floating in, breathing out Breathing out, floating in Float out, breathe in Breathe in with flow Floating out with breath And so, this will be a song for a dying world
VILLI
Villi
Luna
Den måde vi opstår, går i oprør og ender bagvends i Løgstør. Om end altid rede så i evig tvivl, evig evig. Uendelig evighed omkring altings opståen. Altingets intentioner. Det intentionelles oprør. AUUU. Det utilsigtede. Flormelis i si over nøgne bjergtoppe. Alpehuer og inkohærens. Koagulerende koalaer. AUUU. Slangebid. Bindende kontrakter. Kontaktlim. AUUU. Fingre uden mellemrum. Melodramatiske nudelsupper. Samkomster. Søren Ryge i bedste sendetid. Bedste tidsfordriv. Fordrer pistacieis, kaffe af underkop. Kølige nætter og varme stuer. Varmestuer i kølige nætter. Nælder fra urskov, aldrig fra vejside. 25% skov. Skoldhede hårbolde på sandaler. AUUU. Modens endelige implosion.
Victoria
Aoife
The tall ghost tale of me as a seer in the laundry room alone edgy walking through the circle house endless curves round past the kitchen hallway bookcases cupboard room room room sitting room and kitchen again fucked could never know if there was someone circling identical pace always on the opposite side mirror man
clapping game the laundry and the sound of someone in the laundry cold hand or no hand tripping me me tripping me then in the bushes halfway down the stairs with the home phone almost out of reach calling the family to let them know there was an intruder I had knocked over the laundry powder and fabric softener to make it look like it was a real person not a ghost person someone had stolen mam’s handbag from the sitting room last week so it was a plausible situation they some home and I’ve calmed down
still have to keep the lie up take them through my constructed crime scene mam says the laundry powder was spilled over like that before they left I know she’s lying but so am I everyone is stuck in lies looking around the room sorted I guess on to the next thing but I was told by her that I was Australia’s next big psychic the hot new thing could really help some people big responsibility too many alive people already
Heavy spinning, heaviness like ropes / Twisted / Anchoring and pinching and dissolving into tiny particles that dust the inner walls of my stomach / Like a layer of sandpaper squeezing inward / Intestines decreasing in mass and increasing in density / Strapping, bouldering, making space while demanding attention / Nose running, nose always running / Dripping with fluid, intestinal, spinning / I am spinning inward / Closing my eyes to shut out the world / Presence fluctuating between spectre and spectator / Mind fluctuating between reflection- the light currents- and collapse I go outside, I can’t feel the air / Each breath swallows whole / exhales, bursts, splits into two / Into three, four / Until there is a swarm / A flock / A current / Rising up and contorting I feel it in my diaphragm / This evil thing rapturing / I try to overwhelm it / Stare into the moonlight / Into the mountains / Into the black sky / Suck up, skin first / Activate the memory of the cells / Where is the fucking magic? / Where is the fucking source? / The fucking thing that exists always on an edge / Always fluctuating in certainty / Endlessly powerful and endlessly empty Wanting to be something big / Something with roots / With a physical connection rather than a symbolic one I shuffle back inside / Love bursting inside / Extending in every direction and reminding me of my isolation / Of the limitations of form / I can see, I can feel, I can touch, I can hear / I can summon, I can conjure, I can project, I can create / But these walls / These fucking walls / The fucking curtains over your eyes / The fucking iron in my blood / The small isles of space that mock / That refuse to catch us / Refuse to mend / Refuse to connect / Only claw us apart / And feed our insanity
Amanda
I. I love you like a glitch / A moment that begins and ends continuously, / a partial truth / The universal truth being that there is no beginning or ending / Only new names for things, / Or old names and renewed ships / Like “I love you” Or “I don’t love you” / I like the thought of dying / A wave realizing that it was always an ocean / The wave was always a partial truth / Both there and not there / Are all things like this? / Demanding to be seen yet ungraspable? / Like the pink aura over the mountain / The only light that graces us, the earth halting on its axis / The place where death and ego converge / Of course the end of the world must come after the most beautiful day II. I don’t love you / For your basic humanness / You touch me like you own me and it feels sort of nice / You touch me like you’ve done this before, many times / Like you use bodies as raw material for enacting your desires / I’ve done this before / I’ve taken and taken and taken / Used you as a source, squeezed you out like icing / My words fall out, age rapidly / I’m too high, I’m too low, I’m too wet / When will I find the ocean? What happens then? III. Maybe I sabotage myself to become myself / Try to give the ego less things to hold onto / Remove my color, my texture, the way the light reflects / Remove it all until I’m stript of all substance / Maybe I’m meant to be alone (another partial truth) / Meant to find salvation / Meant to reach into some sort of core / Dig into moltan / But I keep reaching for the phantom limb / Becoming re embodied in a lack IV. My drive is to find peace, / Equilibrium / He said, looking into fire / I agreed / But then again / My peace always seems to follow a struggle / Trapped in that sweaty blue tent, / In that queen sized bed on the upper east side / Gasping for air / For the word of God / For a quiet understanding / Peace / After climbing to the almost peak / After expressing the almost truth / Equivalent to nothingness / Meeting the ocean / Peace / Finally catching up / Finally knowing the rules, the keys to success / Manifesting all the precious metals / Dying over a mound of lovers / Yes / Then falling, crashing, cutting into sand / There was no one like me / No one / A salivating mouth / Spits out
GOODBYE JOCKO
AND THEN... WE THREW A TOWN PARTY AT THE NET FACTORY FOR 200 PEOPLE!
Fanny
Villi
Liv + Marie
Hildur
Luna + Johan
Historical Tour of the Net Factory
... 1500 BC: The net factory, originally called the nest factory, was forged by golden plovers, the ministers for the elves, out of sticks and grass. If you look over to your right you can see some of the remnants from this construction. This was prior to the arrival of humans as you all know. The golden plovers built a giant nest to celebrate the coming of spring time. The icelandic elves, who were famously known for there work with the bird santa clause, used the giant nest as a factory to build tiny nest dream houses for all the good chicks at christmas time for over a thousand years. Thus, the nest factory was born. 500 BC: The nest factory was abandoned because the little chicks no longer wanted nest dream houses and instead wanted condos. Thus, it became a military base for the trolls during the time of the great dwarf wars. over here we have preserved some of the actual hideouts used by the trolls. The nest factory was famously used in the battle of ground pepper where the trolls hid under mounds of ground pepper, ambushing the dwarfs who were allergic. This was a miraculous victory, as the trolls were vastly outnumbered. ...
Amanda
Johan
Isaiah + Bianca
Alma + Setare
Olafia Maria Gisladottir As interviewed in her home for Seydisfjรถrรฐur Community Radio 107.1fm Friday 30th November 2018
Ola Maja: I’m this typical person who’s always changing to tea from coffee, so I buy lots of tea Claire: Chocolate Chili, ooh I love this one too! Shan: Ola Maja, you wouldn’t happen to have any… like… like, a… hot chocolate? O: Oh yeah! Oh yeeeahh! S: Could I put like a little bit of cocoa into a cup maybe? O: Oh yes! I have even the chocolate, you know. S: No no, don’t go to that, just like, instant? Like is there a quick one, a packet one? O: NO. I’m just going to make you a real hot chocolate S: No, no no! C: Woah she’s going to make a real hot chocolate! O: It only takes a minute S: Really? OOOOOHHHH! Ok I’m so excited! Sorry I should’ve said that before. O: Well, I’m not “Grandma” for nothing you know. You know there’s one of the kids in the kindergarten that calls me Grandma. He’s only one and a half years old I think. Close to two maybe. But we were discussing it today that we were telling him that my name is Ola Maja. And he said, “nooooooo! You are Grandma!” C: Oh... that’s really sweet. O: And he thought it was just a joke you know S: You’re Grandma! Maybe you could ask a question, Claire, while we make this? C: Yeah, ok. I think the first question I had written down was — where were you born Ola Maja?!
O: In your apartment! C: In my room, right? O: In your room [laughs]. Yes! C: That’s what I thought, it’s so cool. O: Actually, see, my mum moved here when she was only three or four years old, with her parents from the next county. So she was not born here, but my family has been here since 1936. And actually when she was 14 years old she went to Reykjavik to go to school, and met my father for the first time. I think they might have kissed, I don’t know… S: Ooooh, where did they meet? At like a school disco? O: Um, I never really heard how they met — she was living in the same street as he lived. You know, Reykjavik was very small in those days, in the 1930s. But anyway, she came back home and then there was no connection. They didn’t really start dating at that time. So both of them met other people, and they both had kids. My father had a lady in Reykjavik and had a kid with her, and my mum had a kid with another guy here. But anyway, later on, like, two or three years after my mum had the oldest kid, my father came here on a herring boat to Seyðisfjörður and looked her up. And there it was. C: Ah! Wow! O: So it was quite a blend for my family to get him from Reykjavik because he was, you know, he was coming from a completely other era. He was from the capital, and… S: He was a city boy! O: Yes, he was a city boy. But the funny thing, they started living here and then they moved to Reykjavik for a couple of years or something. But then they came back here and in the end my father was more like an original person from Seyðisfjörður than my mother, because he would burn for the place. He did everything he could, he was in the town council, he was doing all kinds of stuff, concerning the community. C: And do you have other siblings as well? You’ve got half-siblings? O: Yes, we have these two half-siblings, but my mum and dad, they had
seven kids together. S: WOW! C: So there’s nine of you in total! Oh my god! O: Yes. And we are actually, you could say we are in two generations. My oldest sister was born 1952 and the youngest one was born 1973. And we lived next door to our grandparents all the time, so we could always run over. C: Two houses! O: Yeah. And my grandparents’ farm was very close to us, so we always got the milk from them, and meat, and everything. They taught us how to play cards and there was this very, very good connection. C: Where are you in the seven? O: In the middle. C: Oh you’re right in the middle! O: There’s three older, and three younger. C: Ok, you’re smack bang in the middle. Do you think you’re a classic middle child? O: Well my brothers and sisters, they tell me that I’m not the typical because there’s seven years between me and the next one. S: So you’re like the little one? O: I was daddy’s girl, always. Until the next one came. And I was quite a spoilt one. But after that I had three sisters, so that was quite a shock for me. S: From the same parents? O: Yes. Seven, from the same parents. S: Just a seven-year gap! Then they went for it again. O: [laughs] they were always trying to get more boys. I don’t know why, they had two boys but they wanted more boys. And they put both my grand-
mother’s names on me — so I was supposed to be the last girl! C: Oh wow! So your full name is? O: Olafia — that’s my father’s mother. And Maria was my mum’s mum’s name. C: Do you know what they mean? O: Olafia just comes from Olafur, you know the King Olaf from Norway or something. S: Olafia? O: Olafia. C: Olafia Maria. S: Why have I been calling you Ola Maja? O: That’s just the short version. S: Oh [laughs] — I thought I’d been calling you the wrong name! O: Olafia Maria Gisladottir. And you know, our father’s first name is our last name. So like, Daughter of Gisla. But I could change it today. You can choose if you have your mother’s first name as a last name, or your father’s. But my mum’s first name is Guðborg, so that’s quite a bit more difficult than Gisla. S: Guðborg. Sounds a bit like Grilled Butt. O: But she was always called Tulla. Two of my sisters made this cookbook for us one year. These are all the recipes that she used to cook. C: That’s so cool. Do you use those recipes? O: Oh yeah! We always have these questions from our siblings, you know, “how did Grandma do this?” C: That’s amazing! What was she famous for? O: Umm. She was most famous for — well what the grandkids ask about is this rice pudding with chocolate in it. Nobody had ever done it, it’s something she made up, just to have us eat it I guess, or something. She put
some cocoa in it. And sometimes we had a little bit of whipped cream. S: Genius. O: Yeah. So the kids they ask for this rice chocolate pudding. S: Mmm. And did you learn how to cook from your mum? O: Yeah, in a way. Yeah, I guess so, because we were always hanging around her. C: Ok wait I have a question about the name of this recipe — how do you say this word?! O: Show-mana-taks-suker-lade-tarta [sjómannadagssúkkulaðiterta] C: What does it mean?! O: It means, uh, ‘sjómannadags’ means the seaman’s day — that’s a Sunday in the beginning of June where the sailors are celebrating their day. It’s a national holiday in Iceland, to honour the sailors. This is something my mum baked because in the olden days my father was a sailor. ‘Súkkulaðiterta’ is a chocolate cake. It has icing on top of it, it’s something that nobody forgets in the family. C: Alright! S: Claire you might have to… C: It’s one of the longest words I’ve ever seen in my life! O: Haha. I think they also like to make it up a bit. S: Lowmannadagssukerlakaaka. C: It’s like, supercalifragilisticexpialidocious… S: What age did you leave Seyðisfjörður? O: Well, I went to another school when I was 15 years old. I went to a boarding school on the south side. Because my brother had been there and they were running a different type of school. There were a lot of sports going on there. But it was just, first of all, an adventurous thing in my head that I needed
something more than this small place. I was there for one year. It’s actually quite a famous place. It’s called Reykholt in Borgarfjörður, in the South. Historically it’s a very very important place in Iceland. Because there was a guy living there, Snorri Sturluson. His major project is called Snorra Edda. If I’m honest I never had the patience to read all these. C: Oh it’s the Eddas and the Sagas… oh yeah I’ve read about this guy. O: Yes. And there is a very nice museum there now. There’s not a boarding school anymore. There are hardly any boarding schools anymore in Iceland. They had lots of them in the old days. C: So you went to boarding school and then did you come back after that or did you leave? O: Well I always came back in the summer time. But the year after I decided I was ready for Reykjavik. So I went there to finish the public school. The school system was a little different in those days. But I went to Reykjavik and I finished it there. I rented a room in the centre of Reykjavik, near the school. I didn’t know anyone. C: Cool, how was it? O: There, I really started… C: Did you go wild? O: I went so wild. S: Amazing. O: No… It was not funny. S: Oh ok… O: But I don’t have to miss anything, I went through it all. I actually got into the end of the hippy movement, and my oldest sister was living in a commune in Reykjavik with all kinds of people, so there I learned to smoke hashish and stuff… C: It’s crazy, I associate the hippy movement so much with the US and American culture, but it’s interesting to think about Icelandic hippies!
S: What did you wear? Bellbottoms? O: Yeah. Those pants that go out, and then these embroidered vests. Stuff from India. There were these two stores in Reykjavik. One called ‘Thousand and One’ and the other one was called ‘Jasmine’. And those were stores where we could buy incense and stuff from India we had never seen before. But anyway I was there for one year, or one winter. And then I came back. I usually worked a lot in the summer time because we had to pretty much support ourselves. So I was usually working two or three jobs in the summer and collecting money so I could go again. That was going on all the time. Then I started two other different schools in Reykjavik. There was too much book stuff so I… C: How old were you at this point? O: I was around 17 or 18. And then I went to this school to learn practical nursing. I was doing that for three years. And then I met a guy; I got pregnant. I couldn’t finish the school, but I went back home with the kid. S: Was he Icelandic? O: Yes. And he didn’t want any kids, so he said goodbye. C: Really? O: Yeah. So I went to my parent’s and my dad said, “oh, one more kid, no problem!” C: What’s one more?! O: It was just one more for a seven or eight kid father. [Ola Maja serves hot chocolate and biscuits — Shan loses his shit] O: So I had to go home and start to take care of the baby. C: And how was it? How did it feel to have that baby? A bit crazy? O: I was not ready at all… I didn’t really figure it out until I was sitting there with him in my arms. But my parents were so supportive. Is the chocolate ok? S: It’s the best hot chocolate I’ve ever had, it’s so good.
C: Thank you so much Ola Maja. O: Ok good. C: So then? O: Then I came home, and started working in the hospital a little bit. C: Here? Where we’re living? O: Yes, yes. C: How was that? I wanted to know, because you saw all the younger generation of your siblings born in the same hospital right? O: Yes, we were all born there. C: And do you remember that? Going to the hospital to visit? O: Oh yes, I went to visit my mum every time, I remember it all. She never told us until she had one or two months left of her pregnancy that she was pregnant. And she didn’t go to have it checked, she never got so sick, so she was just sitting there and holding it there and then all of a sudden she was just like, “I need to go to the hospital.” But in those days they could rest, they could stay there for a week. So for her it was like a five star hotel to get to rest in the hospital for a whole week. C: Just peace. O: Yes. But anyway, at least I think when she was telling us that she was pregnant with the youngest one, I was getting into the teenage years. There’s 13 and 15 years between me and the youngest ones. So like, “oh mum! One more kid? Please!” And in those years you felt like it was so terrible to have such an old parent, it was like, “are they still doing it?!” You know?! [laughter] C: It’s also the classic older kid, who will never get over the betrayal of having more siblings, you know? O: But it was so funny when I came back home with my first son, just a couple of weeks old. He really grew up with my youngest sisters. They just, you know, I’d be sleeping in the morning, because I went partying and all that,
but they would sneak in to the bedroom and take him, this tiny little baby, and they would play with him as a doll, like five and six years old, putting him in doll clothes and driving him… S: Sounds incredible. C: That’s pretty cute. He was raised by a lot of people. That’s kind of fun. O: Yeah, it was fun. S: And where does he live now? O: That’s the one who now is living in Spain. He’s 39. Turning 40 in January. C: So then you went back to work in the hospital that you were born in? O: Yes. C: Was it weird to work in the place you were born? O: I never thought about it. It was just, you know, everything happened there. Everyone who lived here was born there, and a lot of people died there also, so and we had a lot of respect for that house. A lot, you know. I kind of started to work there before I went to study. But then I think my father was pushing me a lot to go get some education. They were very much into that, so all of us have some additional education. If I was today this age I would go to something like what you guys are doing, even if I could have had the chance to practice, but that’s just how things happen. I really wish I had been pushed in that direction. But in those years people wanted their kids to have a good stable job, you know. And that’s probably everywhere like that. C: I think my parents probably still want that for me! O: But then, after I had been for a while at the hospital, I went to work for the pharmacy. Because it worked out better for me with the baby. C: Was the pharmacy still in the same place? O: The pharmacy was actually in those days in a house, on the corner of the street, when you are going to Skaftfell. It’s almost like a half house there. You know, cut in half. And there used to be additionally a very old building there too. We were working in both units. And we were making some medicine in the pharmacy too.
S: What kind of medicine? O: We were doing like cough mixtures and ointments. There was always a pharmacist and he was the owner. He was my teacher. One year, the school in Reykjavik offered everyone around the country who was working in a pharmacy to come to Reykjavik two months a year to go through the book part of the education, and all that, and then we would be students in our pharmacy the rest of the time. I did that for three years, it took three years. I went to Reykjavik, got my party time, and lived with these ladies. We were all ladies, five — no we were eight — from different parts of the country. So we tried to live together, we rented this apartment… S: Was it like the best time ever? O: It was so much fun. S: Are you still in contact with any of them? O: Yeah… not very much but I know of them, I hear from them and stuff like that. It was really nice. But I was the biggest party person in the group so… The oldest was older than I am, she has also been through rehab just like me! We did our quota early. But anyway, when I finished that, I kept on working. Let’s see… there’s a little mixture. I was between the hospital and the pharmacy. At one point I was a few years in the pharmacy, and then I went back to the hospital. And after being there for a few years a lady in my family took over the pharmacy, and she had just had a baby so she needed someone that had some education to help her. She asked me if I could come over and they would pay me a reasonable salary. So I did that, and I worked there for twelve years. In between, I of course went to the States, and lived there for six years. C: Oh of course. Where in the States were you living? O: South of Utah. C: Wow. How was that, the change for you? Was that the first time that you’d been out of Iceland? O: No, but I was 24 years old when I went first from Iceland, to Faroe Islands, with the ferry [laughs] C: Woo!
O: Yeah. But and then you know, working in the pharmacy, a single mum, I met this guy who was working here just as a summer job, and his family was living in the States. He is Icelandic, but he hadn’t been living here since he was a little kid. But you know, he came to the pharmacy to buy Lýsi, you know Lýsi, the fish oil? S: Oh ok. He just kept on coming to buy that? O: [laughing] yes! C: And you were like, “how much fish oil does one man need?!” O: He was on an old beaten up motorcycle. He was very much into cars, he was a mechanic, and into bikes and stuff like that. S: When did you realise that he was coming for you and not the fish oil? O: Well, I was very quick. We used to have these dances, you know. In the olden days it was before the legalisation of beer in Iceland. You went to these community halls and dances, and took a bottle with you. C: Your bottle of what? Brennivín? Moonshine? O: Whatever. They were not selling booze at the party. We bought it in the liquor store, and brought it with us. So yeah, we actually met there, started dancing, and… S: The rest is history. O: Yes, yes. S: And then you decided to move to America? O: Yes, we lived here for four years, we bought the house behind Skaftfell — there’s a tiny little house. I think there was an artist having an exhibition there or something. But anyway, it’s a very tiny little house. And we started ripping everything out of it and remodelling it, but we were always high. We were making our own beer. So the house was always unfinished, and we were always relaxing because, you know, we had been working so hard. But anyway, he started his own mechanical shop along with his friend, a German guy who moved here. They were fixing cars in the daytime and drinking beer and smoking dope in the evenings. But in the end we ended up renting the house, he went before me to the States, where his mother was living, by
Lake Powell. And got a job there. I went after him. I worked, I went to work at one of the fish factories here, I could get a heavy job there — shifts with a lot of hours. It was the only way to make good money. I did that for a few months. C: Was it really hard work? O: Yeah, well it was mainly you never had days off. Maybe one day off per month. S: Wow, and what were the hours like? O: It was like 12-hour shifts. So it was 12 hours on, 12 hours off. C: That’s hardcore. O: It was just chk chk chk. C: Doing the same things over and over? O: It was mainly just watching those machines. It was the factory that’s now close to the Net Factory. C: Yeah, we did a tour there. O: Did you do a tour? Yeah, it was before everything was computerised. So everything was very old fashioned. We had to take a lot of the machines apart and clean them. But we were mainly watching because there was a lot of heat. We were actually boiling the fish to draw out the fish oil, and making meal out of the rest of it. S: Oh it’s the fishmeal factory with the big silos? O: Yes. C: What was kept in the silos? O: It was this meal. The oil is separate — the production of this is separating the oil from the fish, and then you actually boil it and you dry the meal. S: And what do you do with the meal? O: That’s actually used for all kinds of, I think it’s used mainly for animal food.
S: So is fish oil more valuable than fish meat? O: Fish oil is used a lot in the beauty industry, and all kinds of things. It has a very high value in these products because the factory, you know, it’s done in the cleanest way you possibly can. So, but it was quite different in those days and, ah! It was difficult. I wouldn’t do it today. It was mainly staying awake and having some energy… S: How long did you work there for? O: Six months. C: Did you make any friends? O: I think there were only two or three ladies working there when I was there, so yeah, we would just, you know… C: In my experience sometimes having a really shitty job sometimes you make the best friends because you can all bond over how crap it is together. O: Yeah we did that. And we were doing different things, like maybe cooking something and taking it to share. I was doing a lot of knitting in those years too, I did all kinds of sweaters and socks. But actually it was all local people, in those days you knew most of the people. And they were like a certain type of person that had been there all their lives, like some old guys who had been doing the same thing all the time. But it opened my mind in a different way. I connected differently to these people. And that’s actually how I feel about going into these different jobs all the time. It’s not the same, you might have been living with the same people all your life, but you see different sides of them when you work with them, you know, in their spot. C: That’s interesting, just getting to know, or finding a common point of connection that’s different to just the kind of daily “hello.” O: I’m really thankful for all these years. I think I have tried pretty much every work place in this town. C: Which one’s your favourite? O: I don’t know. I think for me now, I think being with kids today in the kindergarten. It’s different between years of course. I really liked to work at the pharmacy, it was fun in those old days before the pharmacy was made like every other pharmacy. This was a local pharmacy, it was different from all
of them. It was in our hands to make it different and to serve the people. And I’ve worked in service, in all those stores also — but in those years you could spend time with the people you were serving and you didn’t have to be thinking all the time about how much time you were spending with each customer and that bullshit, you know. I had some friends coming, all generations, coming to the pharmacy just to stop by and talk to me. And it was kind of taken away from us when the new company got in. It’s this centralisation in the world that I hate. I’ve been through it everywhere I’ve been. When I was in the States, that was something new for me compared to here. That was all happening, these smaller towns were kind of… C: Getting taken over by big corporations? O: Yeah, yeah. And then you had to go for like a one-hour drive. There was one huge market — Target, K-Mart, all that. But they actually killed all these small town services. And that’s what’s happening in Iceland too. I hate that. S: I think one recent thing that we’ve become aware of is that Seyðisfjörður is getting some police. What are your thoughts on that? O: I don’t really know, but actually I was very angry, first after they took the police away from here. I was taking care of the pharmacy and working there. I had a break-in one night in the middle of the night, and there were no police in the town. It was connected to the security telephone board in Reykjavik, and they just called in, “hey, there’s something going on in there, maybe you should go and check it out.” They never expect any criminal happenings to be in these small towns. They thought just the wind or something had started the alarm system. I went out there and the front window of the pharmacy was completely broken. I walked towards the house and saw that someone was in there, so I returned, and called my husband. He was home at that time, good thing, because he could tell me what to do. I was going to go in there just to stop the guy, and he said “Ola Maja you don’t do that, that’s stupid. You just come home and call the police and let them do it.” So I did that, but it took 45 minutes for them to come here from Egilsstaðir. And I watched they guy run away from the pharmacy. He had been in there for probably 15 or 20 minutes. S: This is when you were young? O: No, this is close to 15 years ago. S: Ok. So given that experience, do you think that there is a need for police to come now? Because it’s been 5 years since there have been any police
in town. Seemingly it’s because it’s a border port. O: Yes, all of a sudden they want to come. You know it is kind of a strange thing. S: Do you think that will affect the atmosphere of the town or you will just sort of move with it? O: No, I think it won’t affect it at all. I don’t think so. I got very scared at that point, and these discussions about crime. My feeling was that you never know if some people, you know, sick people, snap or something like that. You never know. And what are you going to do? Or some terrible accident. Are you ready to handle it? You know, the mountain road is closed. And that’s the thing. At the same time as they are taking every service away from us, they are not doing anything drastic to connect us. That’s a responsibility the government should take. What are you going to do? I had this conversation with a lady not long ago. It was kind of funny, she was telling me that just like 50 years ago or something there was a boarding school up in the next county that every kid from here went to. And when the road was closed, they just called the coast guard and said, “can you come and pick up some kids, we have to get them to the next county, you just take them to the fjord where you can drive them up to there?” And they just came, you know. That’s what I mean, people in those days, people thought of each other, they cared for each other, and they did not ask at all about how much money it would cost. S: And that’s changed now? O: Yeah. Well not here in this town, people do whatever, they step out as much as they can. But compared to before. We are so small, and we hardly own any companies here in Seyðisfjörður. So we don’t have the power to say we need to have some help. It is in the government’s hands. And well, they could say, “you are not as valuable.” It’s just like a massive production of something, you know. It’s not worth it to make it here because it has to be massive production so you make some money. And it’s kind of like getting into how you serve people also. The governmental things. C: Yeah it’s just very isolated here in that way, and that’s kind of… I guess it’s so easy for visitors and people who aren’t from here to really romanticise that part of Seyðisfjörður — and I’m sure that is part of the appeal even for the local people — that it is closed and its own little bubble. But also there are some difficulties with that, where maybe you’re feeling more separated.
O: It is, I’m torn about it, you know. I like this isolation in many ways but on the other hand that’s probably one of the reasons why our kids are not staying here, and younger people. You know, you get pregnant and you need to have your kid, and you have to move away from home. S: Is the town getting smaller or larger, do you think? O: It has been getting a little bit of an increase in the last year. But it’s also been down to the lowest for many, many years. C: Do you think getting bigger is a good thing? Or you don’t want it to get too big, right? O: No, I think it would be really good to be around 1,000 – 1,200 inhabitants. That’d get some taxes into the town; it is of course easier to run services and keep the community together. It’s very, very difficult today, you know, to get enough money. Almost all the taxes are going just to run the school. So there’s not very much left. It’s very expensive to hold out a school like we have here. S: Have you noticed an effect that LungA School has had on the town? Is there a shift? How was LungA received by locals? O: You know, people were very sceptical in the beginning. C: I can imagine. O: But like I realised, and you guys saw on Saturday at the Net Factory party, the school has completely proved itself. It’s our saviour now, in so many ways. It makes the community more exciting. C: Sometimes I worry that it’s a little bit exhausting for the locals to have this short term influx of people who then leave again. They come and they go … O: No. Well it might be more difficult for locals to connect, you know, but at the same time this is in the slow season, it’s the season when all our kids are gone, like I’ve told you, they go to schools and stuff like that. And there are no tourists. So I think it’s very hard to see any negative sides of it. I’m not the only one. Like I said, last Saturday really proved to me, showing these elderly people who were coming to the Net Factory and realising what was happening with LungA. S: Yeah, that was really nice to see.
O: So, you have proved to the community what is going on. C: But also I think maybe that gesture felt really important to Jonatan and Lasse especially, to show the community that we cared about the local people, as well. That it wasn’t just one-sided, and that we really wanted to do something fun for everybody else and invite them in. I guess it’s just a delicate situation sometimes to make sure it’s done right. O: I think we have had a little practice though, because of Skaftfell. It took many years for Skaftfell to prove itself to the community. C: And now it’s just the hub really, isn’t it, for all social things? O: Yeah in many ways, yeah. C: Do you remember how you met Jonatan and Lasse? Or your first interactions with LungA? O: Umm… C: Or do you remember what it was like when they first turned up in town? Was everyone just like, “who the hell are these young punks?” O: Well, I don’t really remember exactly when or where I met them the first time, but I will always remember my husband telling me… You know, he’s always playing badminton with the former mayor and some other people, older guys that are all kind of strict guys that get together three times a week or whatever to play badminton. And the first time when they came, did I tell you about it? C: No! O: The first time that Jonatan and Lasse came to badminton practice, both of them with very long hair, and you know, like [imitates them flicking hair behind shoulders] — my husband said, and the other guys afterwards, “well, we all thought — what are those hippies doing coming to play badminton with us?” And they turned out to beat them all! C: Really? Jonatan and Lasse beat everybody? Oh my god. O: Yeah, I think Lasse used to be in the national team of badminton when he was a teenager. People in Denmark are really good at it. So I’ll never forget that. And I thought it was a very, very good point in the beginning. I think
with the way they came, they blended so quickly into the community in so many ways. Lasse, Jonatan and Björt, Alla’s daughter, were all in Kaospilot together, so that’s where they got to know each other. And in the beginning of course, they came to LungA festival. That was there in the beginning. I think they hadn’t finished their school or anything, when they first came to the LungA festival. And isn’t it 15 years since the first LungA festival? C: That’s a long time it’s been going for now! O: Yeah. So they actually came to that and it’s been boiling through the years. I don’t know if this school they were going to, Kaospilot, also has something to do with it. But anyway, that’s how it started. And they have been bringing their friends through the years too. They have been here, what, for five years, isn’t it? S: Yeah, five years. O: It’s amazing what has been accomplished in those years. And I think number one, two and three is the positiveness. How they treat everyone the same. C: They do have a good energy. Lots of enthusiasm for everything, I think, and for everybody here as well. You know, they’re just so interested in everybody, which is nice. O: But actually this all kind of connects also, because the graduate students from the University of Art in Reykjavik have been coming to Seyðisfjörður every year for, well, the same, 15 years or something like that. S: Wow, so Seyðisfjörður is a hub for the creative arts. O: Yes, it started I would say in 1995, when Seyðisfjörður was celebrating its 100 year municipal birthday. There was a very long preparation, and people were very determined to do it the best way possible. There was a lot of money put into getting the town beautiful and all kinds of happenings. And at that time, Alla was of course, working for Skaftfell. No, well, Skaftfell hadn’t started, but she was in the group who started it. And things started to grow through artists — like Dieter Roth, who was the one that had been coming here for many, many years. Nobody knew of him, he was just hiding out here in Seyðisfjörður, actually in Loðmundarfjörður, the next fjord, along with his German friend called Bernd Koberling. They came here every year to go over to Loðmundarfjörður to fish some trout. And
also to get in the isolation and just being there. Bernd Koberling is a painter, a very beautiful painter. There are some books of him in Skaftfell. Summer after summer, nobody knew who they were. Dieter was working the roads and the streets, and we didn’t know who these guys were. But then when this festival in 1995 was prepared he got involved in it and helped by putting up some exhibitions both of his stuff and then I think there were some other artists hired through him to do things. A lot of it was just volunteer work. He just picked out every empty house in the town, it didn’t matter how the condition of it was, and everything. There were exhibitions in every one. That’s how it was, they started this. Dieter bought a house, the doghouse. Have you heard about that? It’s on the other side of the fjord, down by the pink youth hostel. He bought that house and renovated everything inside of it. Made it his workplace with an apartment, workshop, and he also had a little boat there that he took to the next fjord when he could. So he was here a lot. His son, called Björn, he actually was always working next to his father and he’s an artist also. So he came a lot too. He actually has been a professor at the University of Iceland for the longest time. Björn started to come here, after Dieter passed away in 1998. He took all of this over; it is a big company, this Dieter Roth Academy, you know. He has artwork that is so valuable that if his family needs money they just take one of his works and sell it. Björn started to have this class in Reykjavik with the graduate students, and after Skaftfell started it was decided that he would take them to Seyðisfjörður, for two weeks, and Seyðisfjörður would be the workshop. They were supposed to connect to the locals and make this exhibition along with the community. Live together and work together for two weeks. Just like you guys. So the model is not so far away from how this started. I think all these people working together helps — like the Technical Museum has also been involved with the University of Art, and then with Alla and all the people around her, and then Björn Roth. And then Þórunn Eymundardóttir — she was the second one to run Skaftfell — very modern in every way. But still very much of a country girl, because she was raised in the next county. But she came first as a student with the University of Reykjavik. And right after that she bought her house and she has been here since. She has been very much into this recycled, organic, do it yourself, you know… And that’s where Dieter Roth was actually one of the first artists to introduce this kind of natural, recycling for Iceland. Because in 1956 or something when
he moved to Iceland in the beginning, nobody knew what he was talking about. So he actually kind of brought this into the communities, into the art world, you know. So the Skaftfell Bistro interior is actually built in his spirit. He really wanted to use natural materials in everything he made. C: Does ‘Skaftfell’ mean anything? O: Skaftfell is the very old name on the house. Skaftafell is — it’s so kind of ridiculous — it’s one of the most famous mountains on the highlands. Same with Herðubreið. Herðubreið is one of the mountains on the highlands. But Skaftfell was named Skaftfell just in the beginning when the house was built, 1912 or something, so it just stuck around. Yep. S: I looked at the time and we’ve got to get to dinner and you probably have other things to do, but we play a little game with our radio guests. I don’t know what it’s called but basically we have a list of words that we say to you, and then you have to say the first word that comes into your mind in response to that word. C: But we didn’t prepare a list of words! S: I can make it up off the top of my head. C: Ok, Shan’s really good at just making them up. S: Ok, so… first one: green. O: What? S: Green. O: Grey? S: Green. What do you think of? O: Sunlight! C: Ahh. S: Beautiful. Ok. Leggings. O: 1980s
S: Barbara Streisand O: Uhhhh…. Circus, kind of…. S: Circus? O: Some kind of movie she’s in? C: Beaches, is she in Beaches, Barbara Streisand? S: No, that’s umm… C: Betty? O: Well anyway I think of her as a singing person in a singing movie. S: Ok, ok. Yep. Um.. [laughs] I was about to say sexual intercourse but that was the first thing that came into my head! C: Shan! Keep it PG rated! S: Sorry, sorry! Um…. Ummm… Jonatan. O: Positive smile S: Toenails O: My favourite stuff! S: French fries O: America, of course. S: Ok. If you could kiss any celebrity, which celebrity would you kiss? O: Ohh… I’ve grown so much out of it I don’t remember! C: Not interested? S: They could be older celebrities! Like Elvis maybe? O: No, no I wasn’t much into Elvis.
S: Ok. O: Bob Marley! S: Bob Marley!!! Yesssss! C: Ok, ok, I’ve got one: who’s your favourite Beatle? O: Umm… George Harrison. C: Yes! Me too! He’s the best. S: Is he? O: Yeah. C: Did you go for a swim in the fjord today? O: No. C: Is it getting too cold now? O: Well, I guess, yeah. C: I think you must be one of the bravest people in town Ola Maja. O: No. C: Yeah…! Do you ever see other people out there swimming or is it always just you? O: Well I’ve met quite a few brave people. But if you stop… you know I’ve gotten to the point where I really have to start concentrating on going into the water. C: Yep. S: Do you have any life advice for our LungA students after they leave here. Or, ie. Claire and Shan? C: Because we’re going to be so heartbroken… in two weeks we’re not going to know what to do with ourselves!
O: BE POSITIVE! That’s number one, two, three, four, and ten. You know. S: Be positive, that’s true. O: Be positive. And be pleased about yourself. I’m sixty but still I haven’t been able to get to that. That’s my goal. C: Yeah, it’s a lifelong project. S: Ok, beautiful. Positive and pleased about yourself. C: Well on that note! Thank you so much Olafia Maria Gisladottir! We love you so much! S: Yeah, we love you. We forgot to even say that Ola Maja comes every Sunday to be with us at home and make sure we clean the house well, but… C: We felt like you were our link between the community and the school. You’re kind of the person in between. I really felt that at the party when I saw you, I felt like “oh, yes! This is a local person but someone that I feel very close to!” It was so nice. O: Oh. Thankyou. I love you guys too, and you know, you have to stop me, I start talking to you and you bring out everything, it’s so easy to be honest to you guys. S: I like that, thank you for sharing. C: Thank you for being so generous. O: I feel like I can tell you everything! Isn’t it strange, being so old? S: I don’t think it’s that strange! I think it’s super healthy. C: No, I think it’s nice. Yeah. O: Like I tell everyone, when I tell them that I’m working with you guys, “I finally found a way to sneak into the…” S: Sauna?! O: No! To sneak into the LungA School!
[laughter] I found a way! You know. I love it. S: I love it. And this is your third year, working with LungA? O: No, second. S: Yeah ok. Incredible. Thank you so much Ola Maja. C: And thank you for the hot chocolate. S: And the gingerbread biscuits! O: I have to tell you, when I came home and my son was standing around in the house I thought he was up to something C: But it turned out it’s just that Shan and I were hiding behind your furniture waiting to surprise you! S: I think that was the best. I don’t think I’ve really done that before, I guess it’s a bit like a surprise party isn’t it. O: That’s one point that you can also tell the LungA kids — you know, you don’t have to go halfway around the world to actually have a fun day. To be in the moment, where you’re at. You can live year after year talking about how boring life is, or instead you could do all these small day to day things and make them fun. S: I love it. C: Mmm. Magic in the Everyday! O: That’s the thing! And I think you have to be a little bit like that living in this darkness. It is quite a challenge. Hasn’t it been for some of the students? C: Yeah, it’s a huge shift. O: You wake up in the darkness and… C: Yeah, it’s pretty weird. It’s a new thing.
S: Well thank you Ola Maja! Ohhhh! O: How old are you guys? S: I’m 31. C: I’m 32! O: [cracks up laughing] C: But we feel so old here because everyone is like 10 years younger than us. I feel like a mum! S: Yeah because everyone in the school is like 21. It’s just so different! C: Thank you so much, you’re so generous and giving. O: Well, I just like to have people around me. S: I think it’s like the advice you were giving, it’s just finding the fun in wherever you are. O: Yeah, exactly. I just had a wonderful day! S: Yes, that’s in everything you do. I would like to take that on in my future.
Dear Seyรฐisfjรถrรฐur...
Shan