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The weather is like this outside and inside I am preparing the weft material that will be the weather that I'll be trying to create in my loom. The woven piece will be heavy like the strong wind that I experienced on Esja the other day. The material is upcycled worn garments and bed sheets that I am cutting into strips. I am listening to audio books by Liza Marklund accompanying me with these rags. Veðrið er svona úti og inni er ég að vinna í efninu, að undirbúa ívafið í veðrið sem ég ætla að reyna að skapa í efni sem verður miklu þyngra en loftið og veðurkerfin. En veður getur verið þungt, ef strangur vindur mæðir á manni eins og á mér í Esjunni um daginn. En efnið er endurunnar flíkur, göfgað rusl, og það fer mikill tími í að skera og klippa allt. Ég hlusta núna á hljóðbækur eftir Lizu Marklund til að stytta mér stundir við efnisgerðina.
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 How can I weave the sky without making a boring, uninteresting, badly made art ?
How can I try to represent the blue sky in a work made of rags? How can I make a thick and heavy rag rug feel like the sky without being it ? This is my task these days. How do we see weather? If there was only space we could probably only feel the weather on our skin. Therefore weather is about seeing, feeling, hearing it. I went for a hike by myself on the mountain Esja to experience and get inspired. There was a cold wind blowing and it was just above zero. It felt very cold on the skin. The wind gusts were around 20 m /sek and at one point I had taken my rucksack off (5 kg) and the following wind gust rolled it down the slopes and I had to run to catch it. Didn't catch that on my camera. I saw the typical northern wind clouds bellowing over Esja. They only get that far as they disappear into thin air on the south side of the mountain. I saw the yellow straw of the ripe grass whipping against the ground by the force of the wind. That was the weather that day on Esja. A good friend, Óli Jón Jónsson, took some pictures in the meeting and has kindly allowed me to use them. I was too busy myself running around organizing and presenting the program to the audience. There was a speech, a choir singing, a jail house rock based song performed and the shame-pole was unveiled. The shame pole is an old habit in Iceland to express your meaning without words. Head of a cod does that. In Iceland if you say somebody is a cod-head you mean he is dumb. The shame-pole was raised for the builders of the road. Say no more. A year ago on October 21st I was arrested with eight other people while demonstrating against an illegal and unnecessary road in the Gálgahraun lava field in Garðabær. On John Lennon's birthday October 9th we were finally found guilty of not obeying police orders. This was the only thing they could prosecute us and then find us guilty with in court. We had a total right to be there and demonstrate in peaceful way what had been ignored totally during the planning of the damned road: That it was unnecessary and that the lava field was a protected area.
In December last year when I ran out of words to express the horror of this matter I started knitting a green Nature Protection Scarf that was a symbol of what we were doing. And by casting 21stiches on knitting needle no 9 one says a lot in a very basic craft. And then one knits and knits. I knitted in court through all the hearings and contrary to my believe the judge did not forbid us to knit. I think she doesn't know how to read this kind of action. What you can't express with words you knit. And now I present to you my images of the Scarf where it lay in the first snow and the sun praised the whole congregation with it's light. 210 meters for 21.10. slithering through the lavafield, claiming back what is lost. Never forget 21.10. I met these ladies on the hike on Hópsnes peninsula. If you are familiar with Scots, or the Shetland place names you will realize that the word "nes" is similar to "ness" that means peninsula in Icelandic and old Norse the old language of Shetland. The word "hóp" in Icelandic means a lagoon by the sea but I have no idea whether it is an old Norse or Celtic/Gaelic word. But these wonderful creatures met us there and were very friendly indeed unlike many of their kind in Iceland. Actually the Icelandic word "kind" means "sheep" which is a strange word as I can't think of another language where this creature is called such. In Iceland there is one kind of sheep i.e. the Icelandic sheep.They come in various colours as it was not the colour but the meat, wool and milk that mattered and the ability to survive. Icelandic sheep were not given hay during winters and did not have sheep sheds until end of the 18th century when a bill was passed that sheep should also be fed and sheltered during winter. Ég hitti þessar stúlkur á göngu um Hópsnes. Þær voru bæði forvitnar og spakar og geri ég ráð fyrir að þær komi úr litlu fjárhúsi þar sem einstaklingsmiðuð umönnun fer fram ;). Hópsnesið heitir eftir Hópinu sem var þar sem Grindarvíkurhöfn er núna. Hóp hlýtur að þýða lón við sjóinn þar sem a.m.k. eitt annað Hóp og þekktara er á Íslandi. Orðið nes lifir enn í örnefnum á Hjaltlandi (Shetland á ensku) sem "ness" og í sömu þýðingu og hjá okkur. Ég fór líka að velta fyrir mér orðið "kind" man ekki til þess að það sé til í norrænu tungumálunum. Keltneska kannski? En sem sagt þessar og nokkrar í viðbót spöku og fögru kindur urðu á vegi mínum um Hópsnes. Gaman að hitta fyrir fé sem er ekki styggt eins og það hafi hitt fyrir fjandan sjálfan í manni. Vissuð þið að fé gekk úti á guð og gaddinn fram í lok 18. aldar þegar sett voru lög þess efnis að fé skyldi líka hýst og heyjað skyldi handa því. Mikill ullarútfluttningur var frá Íslandi og þótti ullin best af fé sem að gekk úti allan ársins hring. Væntanlega lifðu hinar hæfustu af og restin dó drottni sínum.  Walking on Hópsnes. And this time there was THUNDER perchance some lightning Gengið á Hópsnesi. Að þessu sinni voru ÞRUMUR ef til vill eldingar. 
I was thinking of my exhibition I had in January, inspired by Mr Brando and Mr Dean and was browsing through the pics from the show and realized I had made a video of it. Fun reminiscence of the exhibition.
Ég var að hugsa um janúar sýninguna mína sem var innblásin af herra Brando og herra Dean. Þegar ég fletti í gegnum myndirnar sá ég að ég hafði gert myndband af henni. Skemmtileg minning af sýningunni. |
AuthorAnna María Lind, MA Textile Art Winchester School of Art. Categories
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