Struck Dumb

In the past three days I've seen wonders I'd never imagined. Even though I've seen photographs of some of these places, being there was entirely different. the scale, so vast; the smells so intense; the colors more vivid than any inke or screen could possibly capture; the silence so complete. On the 20th, my 59th birthday, I stood within the rift that divides the continents. Iceland is being formed out of that fault, and then it plunges into the ocean to become the mid-Atlantic rift. But above ground, it is real, more than real, you can touch it and smell it and see it: the birthing of worlds.

Above is just one photograph of hundreds I took; this isn't the specific rift valley I just spoke about, but is a volcanic range and valley in the southern peninsula, only an hour from Reykjavik, but one of the most other-worldly places I've ever seen: black volcanics and smoking hot springs where mud boils and sulfer colors the earth. Beyond this valley we came to the ocean through vast fields of black lava rubble that look like I imagine the moon.

Over the next weeks and months I'll be processing what I saw, if that is even possible, and trying to share some of it here and use it in new artwork. Yesterday we flew away, over Katla and the glaciers, and now we're in London, a very different place but one we love too.