Björk in our local supermarket in Reykjavik

Seven years later, once again, I bumped into Björk in our local supermarket in Reykjavik, Rekagranda district.
bjork in the local supermarket 1 look at me as a tigercat she is!
Was it such a magic surprise or/and coincidence again?
FasTFatum (Igor Calzada) – Björk & Marilym
A looked at me, I looked at him. Yes, she was, again. She was “she”.

Once in 2007 August, I was shocked when firstly I saw her: it was in the private club downstairs the National Theater, smooth red in candles, subtle and soft. 30 people no more. And I was the clueless tourist in the middle of September in Reykjavik a Saturday evening, cover with my red scarf and my green pullover.
After all, It was a magic evening. Everything started when the inuit poet sat next to me and whisper: “She is veryyyyyy famous”…refering to the electric, almost icelandic lynx jumping to the club floor coming downstairs. And she sat close by too! It was 2007. Inuit poet spent all the night long painting waves & whales in several post-its, stamping one by one in our the round table that he inuit poet, “she” and me, shared. It was a extraordinary way to end up my rind road trip in Iceland:
I spent 10 days driving along the ring road in Iceland, alone, driving and living with the most extraordinary landscape a human being can really deserve. I had some incredible accident when I was stuck at 2am at night -10 Celcius degrees between Akureyri and Seydisfjordur. I could not reach the accomodation and an emergency shelter come up out of the blue in the icelandic black night (around many white swams). It is a signal. I spent there the night. Long story, long night. Good memories, not lost in Iceland though.
Nevertheless, let’s come back to the plot of the story with “she” in 2007: In the National Theater club the Icelandic TV employed 3 cameramen to broadcast the event. Indeed, MúM band petit-committee gig, with a privilege small audience: an inuit poet, Björk, icelandic creative musical/literature magma and the clueless astonished basque tourist, myself.
Being that nervous and eager, I exchanged 2-3 minutes conversation with “her”. We talked about Whales, after me introducing my origin. Whales and whalers, while the inuit poet quietly was painting hundreds of waves and just one whale in each post-it and then he posted and pasted on the table.
Magic.

bjork in the local supermarket 2 magic surprise
7 years later, the crash of Icelandic economy and society as a whole happened. Once again, I was researching such a amazing country and territory. But in this case, a witness, a traveler, a researcher and a friend, shared with me such a magic moments: He is A.
We heard people’s voice, opinion and attitude. We felt that magma and the earth heating is not just simply a volcanic fact; sometimes it can be also a human behavior. As the anger and the heat that we felt in September 2013.
We found some black cat-tigers in the white Iceland.
But the lynx was there, in front of me:
She behaved electrically. She moved quickly but what we did not understand was that her trolley was full of stuff. Indeed, it was a huge shopping cart full of sweets. She looked very very hectic. I cannot control and I did not want to behave as a clumsy tourist; mainly because A and myself did not feel as outsiders or tourists. Kindly, we were hosted by M & B. We talked and discussed about many things. Therefore, it was not any reason to behave as foreigners in the local supermarket of “our” neighborhood, the day we thought it was important to buy food and become cook for one night, or try at least to do our best. We cooked the outcome was ok though.
These pictures have been in my mind since September, maybe more things as well.
Bjork in the local supermarket is she? 3
It is time to discover why “she” did a huge shopping. Already we know it:
Bjork in the local supermarket Reykjavik car 4
The next Saturday 5th October, it was the celebration for the birthday of “her”: Isadora (3th Oct.)
The Sugarcubes – Birthday (Icelandic)
Now, I understand everything.

And yes, everything was once again, magic.
Eskerrik asko / Takk fyrir @bjork
We will keep on dreaming every night from the Reykjavik rekagranda district, Donostia, Oxford or wherever, with white wales surrounded by waves in the black Icelandic magic and quiet night.
Bjork in the Local Supermarket Reykjavik car 5

Mikel Laboa eta Björk: San Francisco-ko Aireportuan waiting for…

Gauza bat onartu beharra dut:
Ez dut sarriko entzungai, Mikel Laboa.
Baina ezusteko eta sorpresa bat gertatu zait, gaur, San Francisco-ko International Airporten nagoelarik orain, Peets&Coffee honetan exerita laptop-aren aurrean:
EuskalH-tik, norbaitzuk datozela eta Iphone-ean zer entzun ez nekiela eta…Mikel Laboa etorri zait gogora, Matia kalean gora eta behera ikusten dudan bakoitzeko irudi hori gogora ekarriz, aldi berean.
Gaur oso lagun min bat, aireportuan agurtu eta beste batzuk jasotzeko atezu honetan, berarekin akordatu naiz.
Bai, meltin pot eta munduaren handitasun eta giza-aberastasun honen babel-eko dorrea den San Francisco honetako kosmopolitismo honetan…
Oharturik…gure bazterrak, gure “mixeriak”….gure txikitasun…baina barruko horiek honelakoetan borborka ateratzen direla.
Eta  pentsatu dut:
Posible izango inoiz, “gure” Mikel Laboa, Björk-ekin kantuan ikustea inoiz, Donostia edo EuskalH-ko beste edozein txokotan?
Berdin zait non.
Baina, agian, modu polita litzateke, inoiz, abagune berri handi baten hasiera ekitaldi moduan.
Gurea, eta mundua.
Eskutik helduta.

Ps: Entzuten jarraituko dut.
Gure amalurra, eta
nere ama bakarra,
itxoiten segituko dut
aireportuan.
Gure handitasun honetan
gure txikitasuna inoiz
gal ez dezagun.

“Oi bihotz, etxe txiki bat zara. Ahul, lau gelatako”. (M.Laboa)
“State of emergency, emotional landscapes”. (Björk)

ftf.

The Dull Flame of Desire

Egunero. Eta atzo gaua.
Koordenadek bere balio galdu dutenean. Eta real & fiction-a batera elkarbizi direla konturatzen hasten gara. “Desioaren sugar opakoa”:
Solemnea hasiera. Anthony-ren ahotsa, tartekatuz. Bikote ezinhobea, kantu borobila. Atzetik berottzen dihoana jakin gabe noiz egingo eztanda, noiz izango den sumendia sutan.

“I love your eyes my dear,
their spendid, sparkling fire
when suddenly you raise them so
to cast a swift embracing glance
like lightning flashing in the sky
but there’s a charm that is greater still:
when my love’s eyes are lowered
when all is fired by passion’s kiss
and through the downcast lashes
i see the dull flame of desire”

Desioa ez baita sumendia izan behar. Batzutan fuerteena, hor dagoen hori da, itzalia, opakoa, ezkutuan…dagoen hori. Dull flame, sugar opakoa. Noiz eztanda egin zai. Eusten diogun amorru hori bezala. Hain juxtu bistan ez dagoen hori. Eta hor zelatari. Eta xarma berezi bat du, are gehiago, begiak jeitsita daudenean, ikusten ez denean, guztia sutan dagoenean, pasioaren muxuaz, eta betileetik haratago, ikusten dudanean desioaren sugar opakoa. Argirik pasatzen uzten ez duen sugarra. Hori da opakoa. Guztia dago hor, ez dugu ikusten, itzalia, iluna, ia ikusezina,…Eta maitearen begiak inoiz ez ditugu ikusten diren bezala. Inoiz, imajina ditzakegu. Baina bere edertasuna ez dugu inondik inora ere harrapatuko, inoiz. Eta hor jarraitzen dugu, sugar opako horren baitan. Eta ez dakigu zergatik, baina hor.
(Tanbor hotsak. Bukaera)
Sugarra. Hor dago. Gu. Hor gaude.
(Tronpeta hotsak. Epilogoa)
Betiko. Itzaliko ez dena. Forever.
flame
ftf.