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“time traveller”… a rather late July newsletter.

"Summer Time"  - Martyn Thompson

"Summer Time" - Martyn Thompson

I know what you’re thinking… it's barely July anymore… but it seems the muse took flight… vacationing no doubt. Tis that season… a poor excuse you might say for such tardiness… yet time flies by with no regard to my schedule and I’m left with an absent minded impression that I’ve been away…

"  Midnight"  - Martyn Thompson

"Midnight" - Martyn Thompson

The full strawberry moon graces the ambient sky… I’m walking, towel in hand, to the hot tubs — which I’m told are up the hill on the other side of the road. It’s sometime near midnight. Only minutes ago, I threw myself into the freezing fjord… as did most of this little beach party, hearts pounding from the chanting, stomping, leapfrogging ritual dictated by our charming, yet demanding solstice host, Gunnar… There is no sign of night here… in fact the sun set just 30 minutes ago then rose immediately… the clouds are a poetry of pink…

"A Family Affair"  - Martyn Thompson

"A Family Affair" - Martyn Thompson

I’m slightly perturbed to realize these thermal outpourings are filled to the brim with people I’ve never met— yet no one seems too concerned with my nakedness. Hanging out at the baths is quite a family affair here in Iceland . I gaze around… There is nothing but scrub, the long dirt road back to town and the immense landscape beyond. I’m slowly losing all sense of time. Much later we make our way back to Gunnar’s house, my bed is his living room floor — all 5 of us sardine style on skinny mattresses — very teenage slumber party.

"On Flatey Island"  - Martyn Thompson

"On Flatey Island" - Martyn Thompson

Everywhere we go, the breeding birds squawk and swoop, protecting their homes and new born. I’m on a road trip heading north of Reykjavik with my friends, Richard and Henry, and a new friend, Gudren. Very much “the passenger” — not in charge. Everything is new to me… a little uncomfortable at first, but I end up loving it…

"Isafjordur"  - Martyn Thompson

"Isafjordur" - Martyn Thompson

We’re driven along the fjords of the west coast to arrive at what was once Gudren’s Grandparent’s farm. Here there is most literally no-one around… for me an entirely unfamiliar world. Had I ever tried to imagine the exact opposite of where I live in NYC, this could be it.

"  Cross"  - Martyn Thompson

"Cross" - Martyn Thompson

So — I've rather skirted round the astrological note of this newsletter — I will say though, that my trip was in many ways peaceful and I think all Cancerians can appreciate that.

The vast moody landscape… contemplative and quiet.

"Trio"  - Martyn Thompson

"Trio" - Martyn Thompson

Happy July