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

Itziar-Reykjavik

Bi punturen distantziarik motzena, lerro zuzena ei da. Nik aspaldi ahaztu nuen hori, antza. Eta gehien kezkatzen duena ez da, distantziaren kontua; alegia, nora jo ez dakitela gizabereak. Gerra Hotzaren aztarnak, Reykjavik-era iritsi dira berriki, eta banketxeko buruzagiak bai eta Lehen Ministroak kartzelako ziegetan ari ei dira. Hori diote, behintzat.
Bitartean, armiarma baten moduan, Sarriren poema horretan bezala, emeki emeki, armiarmaren sigilotasunarekin, hasi dugu jada distantzia motzenera bidea. Kontua da zein geratuko da, hori ikusteko, zein iritsiko ote da. Eta izango da, umezurtz, bihotz abandonaturik ere, distantzia motz horretako ertz batetik behera, estarta bazterretan geratuko dena. Egongo ote da doinurik, kanturik, horiek altzoan hartuko dituenik? Zerebraltasun oro, nonahi. Gainbizitzeko. Eta nik galdetzen dut? Gainbizi zerren gainetik? Eta agian, gizatasuna gaizki eraikia izan delako edo, garai aldaketak, utziko ditu bai, asko alboetan. Horretarako begiak eduki behar. Horretarako, bihotza ere, bi punturen arteko lerradura apreziatzeko urrutitik. Eta nola marrazten den lerro zuzen hori, munduaren superfizie irregularrean. Eta susmoa dut, hori ez dugula oraindik ikasi.

Eta ez dakit ere ikasteko manualik baino, bihotzik ote dagoen nonbait. Munduaren finitotasunean, denak kabitzen garela pentsatu nahi dut. Begi asko itxirik ei daude.

Esnatu gara, ertzen erdi-erdigunean, zubiaren erdian, bi distantzien punturik erdikoenean, lerro zuzena, superfizie irregularrean. Itziar-Reykjavik deitzen den zubian.

Alboetara begira (norbait ote dagoen ikusi), ixiltasuna eta baretuta dagoela dena ohartu garenean, orduan bai, orduan iritsi da unea:
Eta salto egin dut (zubitik hor azpiko zulo horretara, ura berde iluna duen horretara).
Disolbaturik jada ertzak, ertzetan habitatzen zuten espezie guztietako gizabereak.
Denak disolbaturik.
Baita ni ere, azkenean, zubiarekin.

Ftf.

I want just beauty

Eta gauerokoan.
Begiak itxi egiten ditugu.
Edertasuna baino ez.
Azkar mugitzen direnentzako ez dago apurrik geratzen.
Zu eta neretzako bakarrik.
Denboran atrapaturik geratu garen gu biontzako bakarrik dago edertasunik. (Sigur Rós – Von )
Bidean geratu gara. Gaua, kotxeko argiak itzali eta zeruko izarrekin argitu ditugu.
Nik zuretzako Reykjavik berri bat ekarri nahi dut zure eskuetara. Zabalik dauden esku horietara. Nereak nekatuta daude. Eskuak bai. Begiak ez daude nekaturik, edertasuna egunero ikustetik. Hori ez. Ez nago nekatuta. I am willing to open my eyes more than ever. And they are. Do not show me just a fucking stupid thing. Show just a piece of land, grass, day, eye, coffee,…something really beautiful. I am not intereseting in the rest of things. I am tired of the rest.Sigur Rós – Flugufrelsarinn
emergency shelter
I want just you.
You in the past.
You in the present.
And you tomorrow.
You in a Emergency Shelter I found somewhere in Iceland six years ago. I found it for you.
I want just beauty.
I want you.
All, I want is you.
In this Emergency Shelter.

With me.

ftf.

TEARS

vatnajokull2
It was in-between Reykjavik and Akureyri.
I stopped because I could not keep on driving.
I could not see the road.

Tears mixed with Vatnajökull glaciar pure cold water.

Nobody was there.
So,

I do not hope,
you may understand it.

Ps:
Next time,
when you may cry,
think,
that
there is a huge glaciar,

that is much bigger
than whole sum of
your and my tears,
together.

Maybe,
you may start
understanding
(just
a little
could be

a lot.
A small tear,
a piece
of
the
Vatnajökull,
that
I

have
inside of me).

vatnajokull//
ftf.

Dream Avenue

Dream Avenue.
Islandia.
Reykjavik.
Keflavik airport.

Gaua edo eguna.
Ez dakigu.
Solstice.

Ez zuela minik emango esan nizun.
Eta orain barkamena eskatzera zatoz.
Arrazoia nuelako.
Arrazoia beti dator berandu,
baina badator,
Dream Avenue honetara.

Blur and hidden places.
Dream Avenue
honetan bizi naiz.
Gauetan sartzen naiz,
eta ez dut jakiten noiz atera behar dudan.
Zurekin amets egiten dut
zure usaiarekin
zure arnasa ere senti dezaket.

Hamabost urteko
bildurra eta tximeletak.
Esnatu eta loratzen ari diren
erahildako gorpu hauek
berpizteko.

Zu eta ni.
Dream Avenue-ko
gure loft-ean,
igandeetan
balkoian jarrita bilutsik.
Gau edo egunez.

Solstizioan,
balkoian elur artean
amodioa egin
eta tximeletak
tripetatik
hegal egiten irteteko.

Tximeleta hegalariak.
Dream Avenue-n.

Zu eta ni.
Ez dugu zerurik ikusten.
Ez eta ozeanorik.
Baina ez dutugu.
Hori jada ez da garrantzitsua.
Hazi egin gera.
Gure benetako izaerara bueltatu gara.
Inportanteak ziren gauzetara.
Hori ez da aldatu.
Eta hori da seguruenik
inportanteena.
Orain eta betiko.

Zu eta ni.
(Milaka tximeleta hegalari
Reykjavik-eko solstizioan,
Dream Avenue-ko
loft batetik
ateratzen.
Zerraldo lurrean
besarkaturik dauden
bi gorpu bilutsien tripetatik.)

Hasi da bizitza.
Berriro.
//
ftf.
dream av.