Posts Tagged ‘Halsnoy’

Homesick for the just out of reach

Monday, November 12th, 2012

La nostalgie pour ce qu’il reste toujours hors de la portée

I have just put this short series of photos online,
please check them out –> here.

People keep asking, “Why homesick?” “What do you mean out of reach?” The title is the most apt description of the way I was feeling, and these photos were happening at that same time. They belonged together.

I think it’s about the ache. The desire to create something that speaks honestly of who you are, what your experience of the world feels like. The places you look for nourishment. Looking with such intensity, almost desperate for a sort of x-ray vision, to understand the experience of the sky, the changing light on the sea, the time twisting in the tree.

I’m inside this singular mind, seeing through these two eyes, aching always to see farther, to a place I haven’t been, yet is somehow familiar.

and… I was listening to Bob’s Last Thoughts on Woody Guthrie almost every day.
God bless ’em.

Reaching

Thursday, October 4th, 2012

how
I’m
feeling
today

Reaching at the mouth of the Hardangerfjord. Halsnoy, Norway.

Keeping up with a young islander

Monday, September 10th, 2012

“Miriam, where’s the road? It’s getting a bit dark.”
“Um… I’m not sure…”

Guided by a wise & spirited 11-year-old girl, along the coast of Norway’s Halsnoy Island, the four of us, travelers from four different countries, ran, jumped and slipped along the rocks last night. Miriam’s playground.

“It’s more fun if you jump!” she says as she bounces away.

Strange Things

Thursday, September 22nd, 2011

Fear can be so annoying. I was alone in the big old house this afternoon when the electricity went out. I was printing in the basement darkroom. I had just put paper in the developer tray, and when everything went black I immediately abandoned it and fled upstairs. Robert Plant and Alison Krauss were singing “Strange things are happening everyday…” on my computer.

No fuses were blown, no apparent reason for it. Perhaps someone was working on the line. Not long afterward the lights came back, at the same time a student from the folkehøgskule came to play the piano in the “green room.”

Back down in the darkroom, I could hear his beautiful music through the ceiling and it calmed my nerves. I spent the rest of the day printing without any other weirdness. Wait, except one thing, but it can probably be explained. I’ll write about that in a later post.

The orange room with red curtains. My bedroom window in the un-haunted house on Halsnoy.

Biggest wall on the island

Tuesday, September 20th, 2011

And now for some trivia. Do you know where the world’s largest wall mural resides? All 80 x 16 meters of it? Don’t ask my to pronounce it, but it’s in Høylandsbygd on Halsnoy, at the docks. There are some shacks nearby where at least four vicious-sounding dogs live.

Høylandsbygd shipping mural, painted by Polish artists, Magareth and Konrad Waraksa. Finished in July, 2010.

The Mother Ash

Friday, September 16th, 2011

This tree is 550 years old. She (because I call her the mother tree) was struck by lightening around 1850. She’s protected by Norway and has a plaque nailed to the side of her that faces the Kloster Fjord, but her trunk has grown around it so you can’t see what it says. Her roots are tangled in the stone wall that runs along side of her, and because the lightening ripped her open, she can shelter you from the rain. Her trunk bulbs out in several areas that make very nice places to sit or nap. I visit her daily, and last night decided to light her up while the sky was clear and the moon was bright. For scale, I sat in my usual spot inside her trunk, and lit myself with a flashlight.

Self portrait in the great Halsnøy ash tree

Returning from the Spar

Tuesday, September 13th, 2011

In my day, we had to walk an entire hour to the grocery store, and it was up hill in both directions! Often it was raining and windy, and if you weren’t careful you could get knocked off that one-lane road into the ditch when a car came speeding by.

Today we only made it half-way home when Koshi, the dance teacher at the folkehøgskule, spotted Brij and I and gave us a ride. He knew that two people who were walking couldn’t be from around here.

Brij coming back from the Spar

Night in my eyes

Tuesday, September 13th, 2011

The thing about darkness is, it brings everything closer. Distances are compressed. When your eyes are open in the pitch black of night, you can almost feel it touching your eyelashes. Kilometers become millimeters, that mountain over there a painted backdrop. Each night here in Halsnoy, when I blow out the last candle, my room covers me like a velvet blanket.

Full moon on the Kloster Fjord last night. The clouds finally moved aside to let us see the night sky.

Little House on Halsnoy

Friday, September 9th, 2011

Swinging through Eidsvik on my way back from the supermarket. I see that this time of year in Halsnoy, you cannot bike round-trip to the grocery store and not get caught in the rain.

Eidsvik, Halsnoy Island, Norway.

A note on the square format: since I got a Lumix G3 and can shoot directly in square, I’ve been more obsessed with geometry. It makes me think of this, from an interview with Henri Cartier-Bresson when he said, “for me it’s a visual pleasure….there’s a rhyme between different elements….the greatest joy for me is geometry.”

Halsnøy Kloster, 6:57pm

Tuesday, September 6th, 2011

Strange, I think that’s what time I was born. Anyway.

The light was fleeting and wonderfully unpredictable on the Kloster Fjord tonight when the ferry from Liervik came through.

Making friends on the island

Monday, September 5th, 2011

A couple of Halsnoy’s inhabitants, taking their jobs very seriously.

Curious George and Stinky Pete

Halsnøy Kloster, 8:20pm

Saturday, September 3rd, 2011

First night in the Halsnøy Kloster. I’m here doing a 3-week residency on an island at the southern end of the Hardanger Fjord, between the mainland and the island of Stord. It’s so wonderfully quiet, except when the cows are hungry.