Iceland trip, 21 March 2016

I'm sick, and miserable with it, too. My throat is swollen and sore, I'm coughing, and I'm congested. I'm supposed to travel around the Golden Circle today with the group, but I feel so ill that I email them early and tell them I can't make it and to explore without me. I'm bummed to miss the day trip, I miss my friends, I'm homesick and I don't feel well. I have an epic pity party for myself. I sleep late, not getting up until about 11AM when one of the hostel workers comes in to change linens. She is so sweet, and apologies for disturbing me. I apologize for still being in bed and tell her I'm sick but can definitely get up and get out of her way. She's from a Slavic country, I think, and has a soothing accent. She tells me to stay in bed and that she'll help me. She leaves and comes back with a tea additive that she says "does not taste very hilarious" but will help with the congestion, and some pills that sound like they are basically Tylenol PM. She fusses over me, tells me she's sorry I'm sick and is happy to bring me tea or hot water or go to a pharmacy for me. I'm fragile again, and want to cry at her kindness to me. I thank her sincerely for helping me. The tea additive tastes horrible, but her sweetness makes me feel better anyway. 

I decide I should buck up and not waste the day. I go to the Reykjavik Art Museum. The main level is an installation that I don't much care for. The second level has one of my new favorite exhibits: Back To The Sandbox. Each of the exhibits have some kind of play element: photos of recess around the world, a literal sandbox, old photos of parks, toys, et cetera. My favorite part is Jim Duignan's piece Chicago Swing. He's constructed an actual swing out of a police barricade and steel, and it hangs from the ceiling in front of a large vintage photo of people playing in a park. I'm the only one in the room, so I have the swing all to myself. It's a novel feeling, swinging indoors and in a traditionally kind of stuffy place like an art museum. It's the only time I really think about my thesis while I'm in Iceland. 

Chicago Swing in the installation. 

Swinging.

An orange tree in a sandbox with orange multiples behind. 

Cool modern art flow chart. 

Vintage Valentine collage. 

I do some more walking and window-shopping before it's time to meet the group for dinner. 

A construction worker brought their pup to work with them. Big sweetie. 

These pillows were made out of super long knit tubes that had been folded into knots. They were really squishy and really expensive. 

I found an Iceland Bailey!

I loved these ghost sculptures. They were in a few shops and always made me happy. 

I still feel so sick, but I want to see my friends so I meet them for dinner. We go to Kryddlegin Hjorth, which has these beautiful Moroccan lights. They also have a dozen tarot decks you can bring back to your table. We each draw a card, and I draw Bast from the Goddess Tarot deck. The Bast card means several things, including: spend time alone, give yourself permission to play, ask for your needs to be met, make your own decisions, work with cats. Fitting for my trip so far. 

The lights in Kryddlegin Hjorth. 

Candles. 

Amethysts. 

On a window near my hostel.