shades of blue

i took an 'early' walk... around 11am. this was a cool cat on a residential street. it made me homesick.

dawn crawls over reykjavik... the sky takes its sweet fucking time lightening.

from what i could discern, these are actually pretty nice flats... but a whole block of them is daunting... reminds me of the old barracks on government hill.

i took this through a wind-rattled chain-link fence- leaning against it, swaying.

the north atlantic ocean:

and 'sun-craft', the other reykjavik money shot:

i brought my meds, with their own ice pack, to iceland. i'm always paranoid, even three years later, of how it'll affect me each week. so i returned to my room and took my injection. i left again, wandered around, took more photos, started to feel like crap...
coffee, excellent coffee, at tiu dropar. and then i went to the bonus grocery store, where my atm card didn't work, so i had to get 5.000 Ikr out of a machine. that moment tweaked my mindset: i got incredibly fucking paranoid that my bank had realized i was suddenly using my card in iceland and put a freeze on it. they haven't, it appears, but the weird eerie tension and chronic disorienting exhaustion of the past few days, and my avonex-induced fever, made curling up for a while, even during the precious few daylight hours, seem like a very wise idea.
this is my hotel, by the way... my nest. the two upper darker windows and upper left brighter window are mine.

i slept, with unsettling dreams that i could only remember wisps of, until 7pm. i woke with that horrible unease of knowing i'd, once again, fucked up my internal clock... and i had 16 hours to go until i'd see daylight again.
i still had a fever. fucking emotional. lonely. clausterphobic: within my body, within the darkness, feeling like too much shit to experience this amazing place that i have such a finite time in.
i had a little (slightly exhibitionistic) fucking pity-party...

but the day, as it does, improved. walked around, amid the runtur, people screaming outside open car windows. women in wobbly heels, elbows linked, staggering and laughing. couples making out. for the first time since i arrived i noticed litter on the sidewalks. found the national art museum. dead sober. and i tried a famous icelandic hot dog, and it was one of the most thrilling fucking things i've ever had the pleasure to put in my mouth.
the hot dog was warm and the skin was slightly crispy. raw and fried onions. a sweet creamy mustardy sauce that gushed over my hand. i ate it as i walked back uphill. i thought "now i understand." that fucking hot dog made everything better.
*
despite the darkness, i am still fantasizing about living here...