Iceland: Week 14

Over the last three days I attended the Arctic Circle Assembly, the largest annual pubic gathering on Arctic topics spanning politics, science, security, and culture. Its inclusive framing means that people who might otherwise be siloed into their own fora bump up against each other, and a commitment to open dialog makes those overlaps more interesting. What that looks like in practice is that every session (including the plenaries) includes a Q+A where anyone in the audience can ask as question, whether the speaker is an academic, head of state, or military leader.

It’s me!

The assembly is obviously important to Iceland, and a key way for the country to position itself as an important figure in Arctic topics, especially in light of the so called Arctic 5 (US, Canada, Norway, Russia, Denmark via Greeland) sometimes excluding Iceland from certain decisions. The former President Ólafur Ragnar Grímsson is the Chairman of the Arctic Circle and moderates the plenary sessions, the former Prime Minister Katrín Jakobsdóttir is the Senior Emissary and Chair of the Polar Dialogue, and the current PM Kristrún Frostadóttir was hosted for a Q+A. Prominent political figures from many nations spoke and took questions, including US Senators Lisa Murkowski from Alaska and Angus King from Maine — although they Zoomed in due to the ongoing government shutdown in Washington.

US Senators stuck in Washington because Republicans refuse to fund healthcare.

The political conversations were tilted heavily towards topics of security in the Arctic, with concerns about the return of great power politics, Russian’s continued aggression and isolation, and China’s growing interest in the Arctic. Mirroring the situation within the Arctic Council, the primary governance body for the region, Russia was not present at this year’s event. Or rather, they were not there to represent themselves but were a backdrop in nearly every conversation. The Russian invasion of Ukraine has caused turmoil throughout the world but a look at the top of the globe makes it obvious why their exclusion from Arctic discourse is particularly problematic: the Russian landmass simply dominates the region. There were stories of individual scientists still finding ways to collaborate with peers in the Russian Federation, but these were few and far between. The only direct representative I saw on a panel was a Nenets woman who splits her time between Canada and her home in the Yamalo-Nenets Autonomous Okrug.

Overall, I found it fascinating to be around representatives from governing bodies that I’ve been studying, like the Arctic Council or the Inuit Circumpolar Council. Some of the authors of papers I’ve been reading in my Arctic courses were there, and it was useful to take in the landscape of topics and concerns. I can’t recap everything, but I’ll highlight a handful of sessions below that stood out to me.

Citizen Science: Glacier Voices

This panel was organized by the Iceland Glaciological Society, who publish a yearly journal called Jökull. Apparently 2025 is the International Year of Glaciers’ Preservation, and while the only real way to preserve glaciers is to combat global warming throughout the world, the panel focused on various means by which both glaciologists and everyday people contribute to tracking the retreat and disappearance of glaciers.

They talked about how in remote areas of Iceland “farmers will go out to their local glacier” and make yearly measurement. For most of us glaciers can feel distant and abstract, so the idea of having a local glacier is an interesting contextual switch. Along with measurements, they highlighted how repeat photograph is a simple but powerful tool to track changes, and pointed towards a tool called RePhoto that aims to make this easier. They also have a project called the Extreme Ice Survey Iceland where you can submit your photos taken from specially designed stands that are mounted throughout Iceland to aid in capturing the exact same angle and position of the glacier.

Camera stand to capture a glacier and contribute to the Extreme Ice Survey Iceland. (source)

Another resource is glacierchange.com, which includes a map of glaciers worldwide and has information pages for each. This site also keeps track of former glaciers, those that has already melted out of existence, such Okjökull in Iceland. Increasingly people are holding funerals for glaciers when they are gone, a visible and public moment of ecological grief.

Permafrost Science: What Arctic Trends Mean for COP30 Negotiations

This session was organized by Permafrost Pathways, and was an eye opener about the lack of attention the world has paid to permafrost melting. To get a sense of what this looks like in the real world, I highly recommend this New York Times story from December 2024 about permafrost thaw in Tuktoyaktuk, Canada. This panel focused less on the impact to infrastructure and communities that article highlights, and more on the carbon the thawing releases. In short, as permafrost melts it goes form being a carbon sink to a carbon source. Massive wildfires in the boreal forests across the US, Canada, and Russia have accelerated this thaw, including continued sub-surface burning that can last for years.

The presenters noted that cumulative emissions from permafrost thaw and “under-represented processes” (below-ground combustion, abrupt thaw, fire-induced thaw) are estimated to be between ~387 to ~624 gigatons of carbon by 2100. To put that in perspective, the US emitted ~4.9 gigatons of carbon in 2023. So it’s a concerning amount, and the point of the panel is that none of this is currently being factored into global emissions reduction regimes like the Paris Agreement. Later this month the world will meet for COP30 to negotiate the latest updates to each country’s National Determined Contributions to climate change, and the organizers hope to raise awareness of the issue. Their message to policymakers is that when we look at the progress made at this year’s COP it must be discounted by the fact that it doesn’t include emissions from permafrost thaw.

The Northern Sea Route: Why it Cannot Become a Major International Trade Route

Organized by the Bellona Foundation, this session presented research with a strong point-of-view concerning the continued development of the Northern Sea Route (NSR), the Russian controlled waterway that is one of three potential shipping routes opening in the Arctic due to melting sea ice. Their report on the topic is freely available, and the title of an op-ed announcing the research sums it up clearly: Russia Risks Arctic Environmental Disaster in Pursuit of Profit and Power.

Note: the Transpolar Sea Route is not accessible today, but is expected to be traversable for very brief periods as early as September 2037.

China’s main interest in cozying up to Russia in the Arctic is related to the potential for reduced shipping times when sending goods to Europe via the NSR, which is expected to become feasible during more months of the year as the sea ice melts. But the report highlights how this will raise lots of risks to the environment, including the possibility of oil spills, the emission of black carbon that increases sea ice decline, sonic disruption, wildlife collision, and destruction of marine environments when building ports. Moreover, the unpredictability of weather conditions and need to rely on ice breakers make the reward of faster shipping times less predictable. The main message here is that the risks do not outweigh the benefits, but like so many externalities I fear that the message will fall on deaf ears unless the cost to the environment is actually charged to those responsible.

Mapping Futures: Technology, Indigenous Knowledge, and Mobility in the Arctic

I can think of no other conference where you could attend a session focused on digital mapping and emerging technologies hosted by the International Centre for Reindeer Husbandry. The session was focused on Sámi reindeer herders, although the participants noted that there are 24 different indigenous groups throughout the Arctic that base their lives on reindeer herding. They touched briefly on some of the new technologies they have embraced over the years, from snowmobiles, to early adoption of cellphones (consider that Nokia was nearby), to the use of drones.

The bulk of the talk focused on a recent collaborative mapping project by Christina Shintani and Ravdna Biret Marja Eira Sara that communicates the migratory patterns of the Fálá reindeer herd in Western Finnmark. In recent years the traditional migration path has caused increased tension between Sámi herders and people living in the town of Hammerfest, Norway — which has increased in population due to energy development projects in the area. The map illustrates the traditional herding practices, highlights contemporary challenges, and acts as a communication tool with other people living in the region.

The map itself is a fascinating artifact, but the way it was co-created through community input is the most interesting part. It sounds like a very successful model of not just incorporating indigenous knowledge as an input, but really co-designing to embody that knowledge into a living communication tool. They emphasized that it’s a work in progress, and will be updated and adapted to serve different purposes as they arise.

One really smart visual treatment you can see in the map is the use of seasonally appropriate satellite imagery for the areas of land where the reindeer migrate during summer or winter. It’s a simple but effective way to embed the passage of time into a single image.

Map by Christina Shintani and Ravdna Biret Marja Eira Sara. (source)

Tara Polar Station: Studying the Central Arctic Ocean Over the Next Decades

On Saturday I ended up focusing a lot on the Tara Polar Station, the Arctic research vessel that has been parked in the Reykjavík harbor for the last month. I went to a talk in the morning about the types of science they plan to do onboard, another featuring videos from their first test trip to the polar ice earlier this year, and then most interestingly I got a tour of the boat itself! Below are a few photos but I have a larger photoset on Instagram of the tour.

This is the “moon pool” where they can have access to the ocean directly without going outside. There is a 2,000 foot cable winch they can use to send down cameras, instruments, or people.
Yeah, they fit a sauna in there!

If you want to see it in action I suggest checking out their YouTube page, which has the videos I saw at the conference of their initial test voyage.


This photo doesn’t fully capture it, but during the final reception for the Arctic Circle Assembly the sky lit up with intense northern lights. Lots of times you can only see them faintly with your naked eye, but this was dramatically different. They were not only clearly visible, but moving around rapidly, splashes of green and pink swirling above the harbor. A pretty great way to end these intense few days.

One final note, I had previously mentioned that I was attending the conference as a delegation volunteer, and while I was excited about that, it didn’t work out quite how I expected. I was assigned a delegation to support but they never got in touch with me. I still got to attend the conference for free, including backstage access, but I didn’t get to meet my delegation or attend any of their meetings.

Iceland: Week 13

Last week I mentioned that the lighting of the Imagine Peace Tower was happening on October 9th, and I had tickets to take the ferry over to Viðey Island to attend in person. But the weather in Iceland had other plans. Starting the day before, the kind of winds that can only originate at sea hit Reykjavík, with gusts up to 56 MPH at the time I checked my weather app. The windchill dropped the temperature by 27°F and while it was calmer the following day the organizers still decided to cancel the lighting ceremony out of caution. I’m told it’s just typical autumn weather; it was mid-50s and calm soon after. But it gives me a better sense of why plans in Iceland need to be flexible when strong gale winds can whip up quickly.

Screenshot from the Windy.com app on October 8, 2025

I did get a chance to attend a related event, the Imagine Forum, an annual conference put on by the Höfði Peace Center, which had a theme this year of “Protecting Rights – Defending Peace.” The day-long event brought some powerful voices to Iceland, from areas of the world most grappling with peace and human rights.

The Iranian actress and activist Nazanin Boniadi talked about the severe restrictions that women in Iran face, and her work to establish international recognition and law around the term gender apartheid. Her stories of repression were paired with examples of women pushing back, risking and often facing horrific consequences. She emphasized the intergenerational aspect of hope in this fight, of how women in Iran can learn from their grandmothers, in photos and stories, about a time when they had more freedom than they do today.

Varsen Aghabekian, the Minister for Foreign Affairs and expatriates of the State of Palestine, spoke as the ceasefire in Gaza was agreed to and the world holds its breadth in hope that this could be the moment the genocide stops. It felt important to hear directly from her about the need for accountability, and the importance of a two-state solution, but I was left with the same intractable feelings about how that will be possible in the face of extremist attitudes.

The final speaker I want to highlight is the one that has stuck with me most, Vladimir Kara-Murza — a Russian opposition politician, historian and former political prisoner. In 2023 he was sentenced to a Siberian prison colony for his political views, and freed the following year as part of the largest prisoner exchange between the US and Russia since the end of the Cold War. He told stories of Putin’s rise to power that frighteningly mirror what Trump is doing in the US today, in particular his consolidation and control of the media. He also emphasized that we should not believe there is universal support for the Ukrainian invasion amongst Russian citizens. He told the story of a man jailed for five years for simply responded to an opinion poll and saying he was against the war. When the consequences for resistance are so extreme, there is no reliable data about public opinion.

These three speakers were representing terrible environments for human rights and peace, and yet it was striking how much each of them embodied feelings of hope. After his talk, Vladimir Kara-Murza was on a panel with Rósa Magnúsdóttir, Professor of History at the University of Iceland, and they both used their historical expertise to frame today against the arc of history. Asked about how he remains hopeful Kara-Murza told a story from the previous week, where he had flown into Frankfurt and then drove to Strasbourg for an event. He reflected on how that region of Alsace was soaked in the blood of history, after so many wars fought between Germany and France over the territory. Yet today you would never suspect it, with no border crossing, a single currency — it’s hard to even tell which country you’re in.

It’s hard to zoom out like this, when each day the grip of authoritarianism only seems tighten, and it’s easier to imagine tomorrow based on the trajectory of today than the cycles of the distant past. But as these speakers showed, the worse it gets the more important it is to remember that it doesn’t have to be this way. The grandmothers in Iran remember a different life, the collapse of oppressive regimes accelerates quickly when it occurs, and despite the tyrant’s attempts to hide it their actions are not popular. What I took away is the need for hope, and persistence, and perhaps hardest of all patience.

If you’re interested, a recording of the entire Imagine Peace Forum 2025 is available on Vimeo.


Next week is an major event I’ve been looking forward to since before moving to Iceland, and integral to my studies of the Arctic while I’m here. The Arctic Circle is the largest gathering of politicians, academics, business leaders and others focused on a wide range of Arctic-related topics. They’re expecting 3000+ attendees from over 70 countries, with lots of ministerial level speakers.

I’m not only attending, but will be a delegation volunteer, which means I’ll be on-call to support whichever delegation I get assigned, helping with whatever needs come up throughout the 3-day event. I don’t yet know which delegation that will be; I find out tomorrow. This means I’ll have full backstage access to the conference, and this week I attended an orientation that involved touring the Harpa conference center. I’m a little worried about providing concierge services to a foreign delegation when I’ve only just learned the ropes myself, but it should be an interesting learning experience.

From the top floor of Harpa conference center.

Last night I saw Hania Rani perform at Fríkirkjan, the Lutheran church built in 1903 in downtown Reykjavík. Almost a year ago I saw her for the first time at the Cedar Cultural Center in Minneapolis and was blown away. Similar to that concert, she was surrounded by numerous keyboards, including a grand piano, which she treated almost as a single instrument, swapping between them or playing them at the same time. The experience was fantastic, and the music a bit different than before as she was performing under her pseudonym Chilling Bambino, which is more synthesizer focused.

The keyboard setup for the Hania Rani show at Fríkirkjan.
Photo via Instagram user @mona_blank.

Hania is Polish, and this performance was sponsored by the Polish Embassy. Immigrants from Poland make up the largest group of foreign-born inhabitants in Iceland, totaling 32% of the immigrant population in 2024.

Noted & Done

  • Attended the opening event for Sequences: Real-Time Art Festival at the Marshall House.
  • Finished reading The Rebellious Ally: Iceland, the United States, and the Politics of Empire 1945-2006 by Valur Ingimundarson. This must be the most comprehensive English-language text on Iceland’s deeply intertwined history with the United States. I found it fascinating and if you’re at all interested in Iceland, American history, WWII, or the Cold War then I highly recommend it. It is not easy to find in print, but luckily the full book is available as a PDF download.
  • Related to the reflections above, on history as an avenue for hope, I don’t know why it took me so long to discover Heather Cox Richardson. She’s a professor of American history at Boston College and runs a widely read daily newsletter on politics. I’ve been finding her YouTube channel insightful.

Iceland: Week 12

My eyes are glad that this week is over. Too much looking at tiny words, at close proximity, on laptops, tablets, phones, and printouts. A few years ago I got bifocals, an aging rite of passage, added new complexity to the eyeglasses I’ve worn since second grade. But they do nothing for the kind of stiffness of focal length that I increasingly experience if I spend too long on close-up work. When I stop to look at a distance the world is blurry, and stays that way for a long while until my eyes slowly adjust. I’ve learned that it’s called an “accommodative spasm” which is such a strange phrase that it’s honestly kind of a silver lining if I get to use it regularly.

Luckily the solution is simple, and something we probably all need to remember: it’s healthy to just stare off into the distance every once in a while.


While out on an evening walk along the waterfront this magical pillar of light turned on! It’s Yoko Ono’s Imagine Peace Tower, the base of which I saw on Viðey Island when I visited a few weeks ago. I was surprised, because I knew it wasn’t supposed to start until John Lennon’s birthday on October 9th. It turned off again after 15 minutes, so I’m guessing this was just a test.

I got tickets to attend the official lighting ceremony this week. My timing will unfortunately be tight, with some other commitments immediately beforehand, but I’m hoping I can catch the last ferry before the 8pm event. If you want to watch, they’ll be streaming it live on their website (4pm ET).

Noted & Done

Iceland: Week 11

After my trip to the Westfjords last week, this one has been pretty heads-down. The weather was mostly dreary, with enough rain that 50 meters of the ring road in eastern Iceland was simply washed away. The timing of various coursework sort of stacked up on me, which means I have a few presentations and a few essays all due this coming week. But honestly, that’s not such a bad thing to overlap with inclement weather.


Island of Grótta

A fascinating thing about Iceland is that everything has a name. The photo above is from the Island of Grótta, which I visited yesterday off the tip of the Seltjarnarnes peninsula, but you’ll find similar horizon-labelling signs throughout the country. They indicate the names of not just prominent peaks or landmarks, but every valley, ridge, indentation, rock outcropping, and farm. Armed with this vocabulary, you could refer to the environment with incredible precision, and combined with all the nuanced words for wind (this website lists 14) then just imagine the richness in which you could describe air moving through the landscape.

And yet, names for Icelandic people are more limited. This week the Icelandic Personal Names Committee approved seven new names, and while I confess that I don’t know quite how it works there is apparently a defined list of names that parents must choose from. Combined with the patronymic naming structure used in Iceland, this leads to a lot of similar sounding names. The approval of a name is based partly on its ability to work with Icelandic grammar and alphabet rules, although there are additional criteria depending on if it’s a given name, middle name, or surname.

All of the official rulings of the Personal Names Committee are public, and the most interesting (of course) are the denials. This one for Óskir was rejected because it’s already the plural of the established proper name Ósk, while this one for the middle name Hó got stopped by the ambiguous judgement that it could “cause trouble for the name bearer.” The middle name Boom was ruled against as it is “not derived from an Icelandic root word,” which is required for middle names, but not given names. I feel like I could easily lose an afternoon digging through this database (and shoutout to Google Translate for making that possible).


Tomorrow, September 29, is my birthday. I’m just happy to put this one behind me, but time marches forward and somehow I’m 47 years old.

Noted & Done

Iceland: Week 10

I just got back from my first trip to the Westfjords, a region that has fascinated me for a long time. It’s like Iceland turned up to 11: least populous, most remote, deepest fjords, oldest landscapes. As a multi-day excursion off the ring road it’s sometimes overlooked by tourists, even when they’ve circled the whole country. It felt to me like a bigger version of the Faroe Islands, reminding me of the area around Klaksvík, as well as the southern island of Suðuroy. There’s something calming for me about these landscapes. The sharply steep mountains hold their rocks at an impossible angle of repose, sparing only a tiny strip of flat land along the water to site a village. It’s as if the hills are gently squeezing the fjord, and like a geologic version of the Temple Grandin hug machine, it induces a sense of stillness and quietude.

I had the opportunity to take a long weekend trip because my Thursday classes were cancelled this week, due to my professor traveling. The timing was perfect, as this is about as late into the year as I’d want to go. Winter comes early in the Westfjords, but right now the autumn foliage in the mountains is all rusty reds and yellows, with only occasional pockets of snow and ice at higher elevations.

The primary “two digit” roads (e.g. 60, 61) through the region are mostly, but not completely paved. The “three digit” roads (e.g. 612, 624) are paved in proportion to the size of the village they lead to, and the spur roads that snake into valleys to reach a single farm are always gravel. The weather was nearly perfect — sunny and blue skies — although windy and cold of course. I rented a basic 2-wheel drive car, which worked fine, but it would have been tricky in mud or ice. Only once did judge that I should turn around, when I found myself climbing a steep grade over a mountain to an abandoned farm and the path turned to snow. It’s good to know that my tiny inner voice of self-preservation is still alive and well.

But in general, the good weather made it easy for me to just roam around — to the cliffs and water falls on the sightseeing maps, as well as the back streets of tiny villages, the harbor corridors of fish processing plants, and even a local football match. I have photo sets on Instagram for each day (day 1, day 2, day 3), but I’ll highlight some favorite moments below.

The Látrabjarg sea cliffs are on the southwest tip of the Westfjords. A reason for me to go back is that earlier in the year these cliffs are full of sea birds (including puffins). It’s the westernmost point in Iceland, as well as Europe (although apparently the Azores make that claim too).

The Dynjandi waterfalls is a massive cascade that feeds numerous other waterfalls below it. I really wonder what this one is like in the winter, as it was already starting to ice up and the dispersed nature of the cascade makes me think it could freeze in interesting ways.

I spotted these birds while driving around the back roads of Þingeyri, and they looked strangely familiar. I realized that it was because they were painted as part of a scene in a movie I recently watched, Summer Light, and Then Comes the Night, which must have been filmed in that village.

I met a lot of sheep, but these were the finest set of horns.

One payoff for rambling down a gravel road was encountering a sheep roundup in progress! I’ve been wondering how to attend one of these, so it was a real treat to stumble into it. I felt like the outsider that I was, so I snuck in quietly and tried not to get in the way. Everyone there knew each other and were having a lovely time. They sorted the sheep they had rounded up that morning from the nearby area and corralled them into different pens. Then they loaded all the ones that belonged to a particular farmer into a truck.

I also met some horses, but there were fewer in the Westfjords than on the southern coast.

These views are from the top of the mountain Bolafjall. The radar station up there was built as a NATO project and is now operated by the Icelandic Coast Guard.

I am, of course, a fan of lighthouses and this is a fine specimen. Not all the lighthouses in Iceland are orange, but it’s a fairly common color.

I saw the Northern Lights! I’ve seen them in Reykjavík, but this was on another level. They were much more visible to the naked eye, and I watched them dance around for about 45 minutes until it got too cold to stay out anymore. This was in Flateryi, and they were bright enough to reflect on the water near the village seawall. The aurora forecast wasn’t very strong, but on a very clear night there’s always a chance. An added bonus was the backdrop of so many stars, the kind of immersive astronomical view you can only get in such a remote place.

Flateryi is a interesting little village where I spent two nights. This photo is taken from atop the avalanche barriers above the town. These barriers were initially built after an avalanche in 1995 killed 20 people (approximately 10% of the town). There was another avalanche in 2020, and these barriers successfully diverted the debris away from the village, but it landed in the harbor and caused a tsunami that destroyed numerous boats. I’m not sure how the current work is meant to improve upon this infrastructure, but it’s a multi-year construction project managed by Lithuanian workers living in temporary housing set up on the edge of town. My understanding is that it’s slow going since they can only make progress during the summer months.

Flateryi is also home to the oldest bookstore in Iceland, and I stayed in one of the three guest rooms above the store. It’s has been run by members of the same family since 1914, and the first floor includes a museum that preserves the house exactly as it was when the current proprietor’s grandparents lived there. The upstairs is also a bit frozen in time (in a good way). Each guest room is named for the child who originally occupied it; I stayed in Dísa’s bedroom.

And then of course there were the endless landscapes, and the buildings in them, that in their starkness and simplicity let you appreciate the landscape even more.

My last night in the Westfjords I had dinner at Tjöruhúsið in Ísafjörður. It’s been hailed as the best fish restaurant in Iceland, and while I haven’t tried enough of them to compare I will say that it was very good. Their website makes me laugh, as it basically just says lists their contact info and literally says “we are not very interested in marketing, or the internet in general.” I have to respect that.

The restaurant is housed in a building built in 1781. The ceilings are low, they have communal at large tables, and food is served as a buffet. They prepare around 8 different fish preparations in giant skillets and you can eat as much as you’d like. One thing I really appreciated is that they were thoughtful in seating me next to other solo travelers, which made it easier for us to have an interesting dinner conversation.

I may share more in future posts as I have many more photos and things I could say about the Westfjords. It’s truly a special place.

Noted & Done

Iceland: Week 9

The ferry to Viðey Island operates on two different schedules labeled “summer” and “winter,” and like most other seasonal timetables in Iceland, winter begins on September 1st. So my trip this week to the uninhabited island, just off the coast of Reykjavík, was limited to the 3-hour window in which the ferry operates off Skarfabakki pier. While it’s the largest island in the Kollafjörður Bay, at 0.62 square miles it can be almost fully explored in those 180 minutes. The tiny and infrequent ferry, combined with my relatively greater than average willingness to traverse uneven terrain in high winds, means that I regularly felt like I had the place to myself.

And what a place. A five minute boat ride from a dense industrial port, with a full view of the city skyline, but it feels like you’ve been transported to the countryside. It’s certainly the most isolated and wild place you can find within city limits, and just distant and quiet enough for wildlife to relax in their perceived solitude, like the seal I spotted fully surfaced and sunning himself on a rock. The Viðey House greats you upon arrival, one of the oldest building in Iceland built in 1755 and fully restored into a cafe.

The Viðey House

The Imagine Peace Tower is a short distance away, designed by Yoko Ono as a tribute to John Lennon. The words “Imagine Peace” are carved into the white stone in 24 different languages, and 15 embedded lights form a luminous nighttime tower. I thought that perhaps it was broken, since I’ve never seen it lit, but apparently it only operates from Lennon’s birthday (Oct 9) to the day he was shot (Dec 8), and then for 1-week periods around New Year’s and the spring equinox. So I’ll look for it then.

Imagine Peace Tower by Yoko Ono

The western part of Viðey, connected by an isthmus to the main island, is the site of an artwork by Richard Serra called Áfangar, which was installed in 1990. It consists of 9 pairs of basalt pillars, where one is 4 meters in height and the other is 3 meters. But they are positioned in the landscape so that the shorter one stands 9 meters above sea level, and the taller of the pair is 10 meters above sea level. In this way, all the columns across the island are a consistent height.

A pair of basalt pillars framing the landscape, part of Richer Serra’s Áfangar artwork.
Diagram showing the measurements of Richard Serra’s environment artwork Áfangar on Viðey Island.

In general, it was just nice to wander around the island. To get a closer view of Mt. Esja, be surrounded by water, and walk through the grasses changing to autumn colors. My midwest brain is hardwired to anticipate the arrival of Fall color this time of year, and I’ve been curious to see how that shows up here.

The view of Viðey Island from the Skarfabakki pier. Not very far way.

When I finish reading a book I might mentioned it the “Noted & Done” section at the bottom of these posts, and if you’re viewing the blog on a computer-sized screen you’ll see a sidebar that displays recent books pulled from my Goodreads account. But I wanted to draw more attention to, and heartily recommend, the new book by Bill McKibben Here Comes the Sun: A Last Chance for the Climate and a Fresh Chance for Civilization. In this relatively slim volume the renowned environmentalist not only makes the expected case that solar power is the best option for the health of our planet, but he shines a light on what most of us have missed — it is now also the cheapest option.

From the purview of Donald Trump’s climate-denying, fact-destroying, oil-industry-governed hellscape this cost tipping point for solar energy is easy to overlook. But apparently, in just the last couple of years, increases in solar cell efficiency and decreases in manufacturing cost at scale have have dramatically reduced the price of solar power. In the US, due to the previously mentioned context, this might be less true than in other countries. But that difference is now entirely artificial and driven by unnecessary barriers, from onerous permitting processes to tariffs on Chinese-made goods. But the rest of the world has noticed, and it’s dramatically changing their energy calculus. Take for example this surprising Wall Street Journal article from earlier this week, entitled Oil Giant Saudi Arabia Is Emerging as a Solar Power.

I do recommend reading the book, but for the highlights right away I’d suggest reading McKibben’s recent New Yorker article. There’s enough in that piece to open your eyes to the change that’s happening worldwide, where apparently people are deploying a gigawatt’s worth of solar panels — the equivalent of one coal-fired power plant — every 15 hours! It’s faster, cheaper, decentralized, repairable, recyclable, and clean. I honestly find very little to be optimistic about these days, so reading Here Comes the Sun was the first genuinely hopeful burst of excitement I’ve had in a while. There are obviously still lots of barriers, with Trump fighting like hell to make sure that his oil executive friends continue to profit as the world careens towards climate catastrophe. But when the social, and moral, and (finally!) economic incentives all align it gives me hope that the old regime is finally fragile enough to break.

A final plug to learn more — if the book or article are both too time consuming right now you can watch Bill McKibben’s interview with Amy Goodman on Democracy Now.

Noted & Done

  • Met with someone from the Arctic Circle to discuss the possibly of being a delegate volunteer at their upcoming Assembly. I’m hoping that works out.
  • Dropped the mini-course related to the above-mentioned Assembly. Upon further reflection I decided it wasn’t worth it as I’m going to attend no matter what and I don’t need credits. So now I’m down to a normal course load of 30 ECTS.
  • Stopped by the Qerndu gallery to see some Ragnar Axelsson photos.
  • Attended a screening of the Swedish sci-fi film Aniara (very dystopian!) as part of the Nordic-Arctic Space Futures Panel Discussion.
  • Went to a lecture about the connections between architecture and music.
  • Finished season 3 of Foundation. The first two seasons had so much scene setting to establish the incredibly complex back story. This latest season still introduced a ton of new characters but I feel like I was able to follow along and enjoy it more. I hear that season 4 has already been green lit.

Iceland: Week 8

It took two months, but it finally happened: I was in the same room as Björk. It was bound to happen eventually, given that Reykjavík is barely larger than Ann Arbor, MI. But in my imagination, the Iceland that Björk exists in can’t possibly be the same one where I live my daily life. If I was to see her shopping for groceries at Bónus it would shatter that illusion entirely, so thankfully the circumstances of this encounter still had an appropriate level of mystique. Apparently, on every full moon, Björk plays a DJ set at the record store Smekkleysa, which was founded by The Sugarcubes. She promotes it to her 2.2 million followers on Instagram, but since only a tiny fraction of them live in Iceland it draws a manageable crowd for an in-store performance. So. Much. Fun.

Overall, it was a big music week with the Extreme Chill experimental music festival spanning 5 of the last 7 days. Now in it’s 16th year, the program was held at venues all over town and my favorite sets were by Patricia Wolf, Seefeel, R-O-R, and Drew McDowall.

There was also a film screening of Hrafnamynd by Edward Pack Davee, who lived in Iceland as a child when his father was stationed at the now-closed NATO base. The through-line of the film is about his memories of that time, formed and influenced by slide photography of his childhood, combined with numerous return trips to Iceland as an adult. It’s a beautiful portrait of early-70s Iceland, ravens, and the limits of memory. Patricia Wolf did the soundtrack and performed live ahead of the screening.


Walking near the harbor yesterday I noticed a unique vessel called the Tara Polar Station docked behind Harpa. I looked it up and found a good article that describes how it can withstand -52°C temperatures and provide living accommodations for 18 people. It’s first real expedition starts next year, which will last 18 months, including 14 months drifting in sea ice. That’s a pretty tight environment for 18 people to spend over a year stuck in the ice!

The research station will be docked in Reykjavík through October 20th, long enough to play a role in the upcoming Arctic Circle Assembly, which I’ll be attending. I hope to learn more about it during that event, and maybe find a way to get an onboard tour.


With the arrival of September the days are getting noticeably shorter here. The Sun Graph indicates that only now does Reykjavík have true “Night,” previously only reaching “Astronomical Twilight.”

One side effect is that it’s dark enough now to see aurora, and the last week had enough solar weather for me to spot the Northern Lights. There’s obviously light pollution from the city, so they were pretty faint with the naked eye, but the long exposures on an iPhone let you to see what’s hiding in the darkness.

Northern Lights over Mt. Esja

In general, the sky was very impressive this week. Here are a couple more examples:

Sunset over the Seltjarnarnes peninsula
Rainbow in front of Mt. Esja, taken from the Nordic House

The final thing I’ll point out this week is a fun website called The True Size where you can move countries (or US states) around a typical Mercator map projection to see how they compare. We all know that map projections are distorted, but a tool like this really helps to show how dramatic those distortions are as you reach the poles.

Funny enough for me, since I know these places so well, Iceland is roughly the size of both Pennsylvania and the lower peninsula of Michigan.

Noted & Done

  • I watched Summer Light, and Then Comes the Night, an Icelandic film based on the novel by Jón Kalman Stefánsson. It’s my favorite of the three books I’ve read by him, and despite finishing it over 2.5 years ago the movie brought back imagery from the book so vividly that at times it felt like I’d watched it before. Unlike many Icelandic films, this one is easily accessible; it’s available to rent or purchase on Amazon Prime.
  • I’m planning a trip to the Westfjords in a couple of weeks for a long weekend. If you’ve been, and have recommendations, let me know! I plan to stay in Patreksfjörður and Flateyri.
  • Wikipedia tells me that 81% of Icelanders never smoke, but I guess I go to a lot of the same places as those 19%. I find smoking to be noticeably more common here, or maybe it’s just that there isn’t the courtesy of standing 10+ feet away from an entrance, so I end up walking through smoke more often.
  • I had to wrangle with all kinds of problems on the Moped Army website this week. I guess it’s par for the course, but running a website in 2025 is an especially unforgiving chore. The site gets hammered by unscrupulous AI bots scraping the forum to build their models, search engine traffic is down because Google just serves AI answers instead of sending people to the site, and the lack of traffic combined with plummeting ad rates means revenue is cut in half. I’ve been running the site for 28 years now, and the amount of time I have to spend fending off attacks, scammers, and other bad actors is much higher now than any point in the past. I’ll keep on keeping on, but all of these additional headaches don’t bode well for the health and longevity of the independent web.

Iceland: Week 7

My mind was in two places for quite a bit of the week, working to refine my class schedule and set up a study structure that works for me, while trying to grapple with news from the US. The never-ending barrage of authoritarian power grabs and hateful propaganda from White House is bad enough, but the latest school shooting in Minneapolis was extra fixating for how close it was to where I used to live. I don’t have anything unique to say. It’s heartbreaking, and it keeps happening, and it’s only one of so many threats to people’s physical and psychological safety that are compounding and festering over time. I wondered when I moved here if being in another country would allow me to feel some remove, a release from the daily horror of present-day America. It does not.


I ended up dropping one of my classes, the one about Hybrid Threats. I was overloaded to the maximum allowable credits, 40 ECTS instead of the typical 30, so I knew it might be too much. It would have been doable, but I decided to choose quality over quantity and reducing to 34 ECTS will let me focus more energy on the topics I’m most interested in. Between this choice, and the need to swap a class due to a scheduling conflict, my final schedule ends up much more balanced throughout the week from where I started. Also, no classes on Friday means I have expanded possibilities for weekend trips.


I went searching for a sculpture today, which I saw when I first visited Reykjavík in 2016 but didn’t remember where it was located. I found it outside the Catholic Church in Landakotstún. It’s titled “Köllun,” which seems to translate to either “Calling” or “Vocation” and was made by Steinunn Thorarinsdottir in honor of Icelandic nuns. I love the way the glass lets the light shine through; the artist said she “strived to have the work be gentle and quiet” and I think she was really successful.

Her website includes examples of other sculptures that make use of similar glass inlay techniques, such as this stunning example.

Noted & Done

  • Finished reading How Infrastructure Works: Inside the Systems That Shape Our World by Deb Chachra. Yes, this means I’m finding time to read outside of my grad school workload, and yes again that when choosing to read a book for pleasure, I picked one about infrastructure. Highly recommended! Engaging throughout and Deb is a really great writer.
  • Finished reading The World of the Cold War: 1945-1991 by Vladislav Zubok, which was assigned for my class “Iceland‘s Foreign Relations.” It came out earlier this year and the author brings an interesting perspective having spent 30 years in the USSR, and now 30 years in the West. A good refresher for me, especially on the earlier decades that weren’t as top of mind.
  • Watched Mission: Impossible – The Final Reckoning, which you know, is what it is. I like a good non-stop action movie from time-to-time, but while I can overlook the lack of believability in technology and physical feats, I’m more of a stickler for geography. There’s no spoilers in telling you that a key scene takes place on St. Matthew Island in Alaska, which is unrealistically depicted as being surrounded by thick ice that you could run a team of sled dogs on. The waters around St. Matthew don’t freeze solid like that, but luckily the folks over at Northern Journal have already written a fact checking article about it.
  • Attended the release party for Jack Armitage’s “Strengjavera” at Mengi. The music was made using a Magnetic Resonator Piano (MRP), and is compiled from recordings of his installation at Nordic House in 2023. Apparently he also used an MRP in collaboration with composer Atli Örvarsson on the soundtrack for the Apple TV+ show Silo.
  • The Love That Remains will be Iceland’s submission to the Academy Awards. It’s Hlynur Pálmason’s third time having a movie selected for the awards (previously A White, White Day and Godland) so finger’s crossed that this is his year.

Iceland: Week 6

This is the first week where I wasn’t sure if I’d have time to write an update. It’s 9pm on a Sunday and I’ve been doing school work for the last 12 hours. Whew! Grad school is no joke. Of course the last week has been more than just starting some classes. It’s an entirely new field, with different assumptions of pre-existing knowledge, and a structure that might be typical but differs from what I’ve experienced before. It’s been a lot, but good, and I’m sure that as things keep rolling it’ll quickly become familiar.

One small snag is that I had to swap one of my courses. My program requires either ASK105F Iceland in the International System or ASK103F Iceland‘s Foreign Relations and while I didn’t have a strong preference I chose the former because the scope seemed broader. But when the class started we found out there was a scheduling error, and its actually longer than the published timetable, which means it conflicts with one of my other classes. So I switched to ASK103F, which actually smooths out my week a bit, making my heavier 2-class days Monday/Thursday instead of Wed/Thursday.

One of the things I was curious about is whether or not I’d be an outlier in this program, given my age and background. That question was answered immediately when I met the person sitting in front of me during my first class. He’s 8 years older than me, with a background in air traffic control, and is currently a member of the Icelandic Parliament! Can you imagine a US congressperson finding themselves on a foreign affairs committee and enrolling in a graduate program to brush up on their knowledge?


The photo above is an Icelandic keyboard, and while it looks familiar the changes to accommodate Þ, Ð, Æ, Ö, and some accent marks make it impossible for me touch type with confidence. I have to use this keyboard to print from the campus computer lab because the printers won’t connect to a laptop. Entering my username and password for the first took a few minutes. The @ symbol that is paired with the Q requires pressing the AltGr button to the right of the spacebar. And when my fingers reach for the left shift key they naturally land on the combined less-than/greater-than key, providing a nice row of >>>>>>>>>>s in the middle of your password. Some of these shifts are subtle enough to make you question your sanity, like pairing & with the number 6 instead of 7.

A visual comparison of the differences between the US and Icelandic keyboards.

Yesterday was an hugely packed day in Reykjavík. In the morning was the marathon, and all the additional races of various lesser lengths, snaking their way through the city. By noon, events had kicked off for Culture Night, with over 400 events across the city from free museums openings, to craft markets, to live music everywhere. I had a loose schedule of things I wanted to see, but also just wandered around, stumbling into strange and delightful happenings.

Perhaps the most low-key event is Waffles and Coffee, a two-hour period where the city supplies the ingredients and materials to the host and people open up their homes to serve the eponymous items. It fosters these casual gatherings throughout the neighborhood — strangers and friends in backyards and living rooms, sharing a snack.

A Waffles and Coffee sign, welcoming people to come inside
Marathon runnings in front of Esja
The 3K fun-run had a bubble machine near the end
Battle of the Bands at Harpa
A sizable portion of the country gathered for a concert on the hill

Noted & Done

  • Had dinner with an old friend and her family before they headed out to explore Iceland on their vacation, which was really nice.
  • Went to the National Library for the first time, which will be a good place to study.
  • Saw Desperate Mortal at Space Odyssey.
  • Saw Frítt Fall at Nordic House.
  • Went to the Friday Open Lab at the Intelligent Instruments Lab.
  • Iceland stopped sending packages worth over $100 to the USA, along with many other countries, due to lack of clarity around import rules.
  • <rant>You know how every elevator in the USA has a “close door” button but it never does anything when you press it. Apparently this placebo button is meant to comply with the Americans With Disabilities Act, although I question that explanation since the timing of the door automatically closing is what would matter for someone with a cane or a wheelchair. Is it because Americans are so insensitive they would close the door manually in someone’s face? Also, why have a fake button — just leave it out, or put in a blank! </rant> Annnnnnyway, the elevator in my apartment here has a functioning “close door” button and it is glorious! I press my floor number, and then the close button, and I’m off.

Iceland: Week 5

After three weeks of various adventures to the countryside my step count was considerably more modest this week. I got my first haircut in Iceland, which might just complete the checklist of day-to-day life things to figure out, and I was out and about in Reykjavík, but not too far afield. I’m really glad I was able to move here with this five-week buffer before the start of the semester. I’ve seen amazing landscapes, I’m familiar with the city, and now I’m ready to start my grad program.

As a reminder, I’m enrolled in a 1-year graduate program in International Affairs, focusing on the Arctic. That focus shaped my course selection, and I’ve mapped my first semester to largely overlap the shorter micro-credential in Arctic Studies. One consequence of that is that I needed to overload: I’m currently registered for 40 ECTS instead of the typical 30. I can re-evaluate that within the first couple of weeks, but since some of the courses are mandatory I’d have to drop the ones I’m most interested in, so I’m inclined to try and make it work.

If you’re from the US, you might be scratching your head about “ECTS,” like I was when I first started looking at this program. The European Credit Transfer and Accumulation System is a standard across academia in Europe, and they’re calculated a bit differently than the US “credit” system. One ECTS is supposed to equal 25–30 hours of student workload (per semester), counting time both inside and outside the classroom. Whereas in the US, each credit maps to an hour spent in class. Most back of the envelope conversions I’ve seen claim that 2 ECTS is roughly equal to 1 US credit, but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ — seems fuzzy.

Anyway, here’s what I’m planning to take this semester:

One note is that The Arctic Circle is sort of a mini-course centered around the Arctic Circle Assembly, held in Reykjavík October 16–18. This is the main international forum for Arctic topics, which I would be attending anyway. I’m viewing this less as a extra course and more as a way to ensure that I get the most out of the conference. Aside from that anomaly, the other six classes meet once a week for anywhere between 1.5 and 3 hours. I have classes on campus every weekday except Tuesday.

I had a moment this week when I realized I really needed to figure out an organizational system to manage all the readings I’ll be doing. I felt much better after I remembered and reinstalled Zotero, a free and open-source application which lets you organize documents, associate them with notes, and manage citations. It converts PDF highlights, syncs everything between Mac and iOS, integrates with Google Docs, and keeps track of your spot in a PDF when you switch devices. I feel dumb for not using this when I wrote my book.

If you have suggestions for other tools to help me manage my research, writing, schedule, or all-the-other-things, please send them my way. The last time I started a graduate program was 20 years ago, I’m sure things have changed a little bit.


For the last decade, by shear coincidence, I’ve lived in very close walking distance to a movie theatre. In Pittsburgh the Row House Cinema was less than a block down the hill, in Minneapolis I could walk to the Edina 4 in 10 minutes, and now in Reykjavík I find myself living half a block from Bíó Paradís. What makes this latest cinema situation so great is that I’m a big fan of Icelandic films, but normally have to wait for years after their release to see them, scrounging for access in the dark corners of the Internet or subscribing to niche streaming services. But this week, given my newfound proximity and geography, I saw two recent releases that thankfully aired with English subtitles.

The first was When The Light Breaks (trailer), directed by Rúnar Rúnarsson, which came out last year. It centers on a small group of friends, two intertwined relationships, and an unexpected tragedy. It’s shot entirely in Reykjavík, much of it at the Iceland University of the Arts and Harpa, so it was fun to recognize the locations throughout.

The second film was The Love That Remains (IMDB), written and directed by Hlynur Pálmason, which was actually its Icelandic debut after premiering at Cannes in May. This is the fourth film I’ve seen by this director, and it was interesting how he incorporated a similar technique used in the 2022 short Nest to convey the passage of time. Like that film, there are shots where the camera captures an outdoor scene from a fixed point-of-view, and flashes between drastically different weather conditions that the Icelandic countryside so easily provides. Both films take place over a year, and these temporal jump cuts are interspersed with slowly unfolding scenes of everyday family and work life. He has a beautiful, simple, quiet storytelling style that showcases the story’s environments, both manmade and natural, alongside his characters’ complex relationships. There were also some metaphorical/supernatural elements, which I’m less sure about, but overall I thought it was great.

At Cannes, The Love That Remains won an award that I didn’t know existed but that I’ll be tracking from now on — The Palme Dog! More specifically this award goes to Panda, an Icelandic Sheepdog that steals scenes throughout the film. The best part is that Panda isn’t a trained actor, but the director’s longtime pet, probably not sure exactly what a film is, but always happy to be involved.

I created a list on Letterboxd to keep track of Icelandic films that I’ve both seen, and want to watch. Let me know if you have any recommendations that I haven’t added yet.


Noted & Done

  • Got my first haircut in Iceland, by a Greenlandic barber. I apologized on behalf of the US, although he was convinced that nothing would come of Trump’s rhetoric of making Greenland part of America. He actually thought the attention that Greenland’s been getting could have positive outcomes. I hope he’s right.
  • Realized that my electric tea kettle here boils water noticeably faster than in the US. because it can pull more watts from the higher-voltage supply. Relatedly, I also realized that I need to buy a new induction charger for my electric toothbrush because my US version is only rated up to 130V. It hasn’t caught on fire yet, but I really don’t like using the word yet in the same sentence as fire.
  • Saw Autechre perform at Harpa, in complete darkness. Honestly, the darkness and the unrelenting aural assault that is their live show was a bit overwhelming and claustrophobic. I think that a seated venue would have made it easier to take in.
  • Saw GRÓA play at Smekkleysa.
  • Went to RVK Poetics at Mengi, a recurring reading event. Over half were in English, so worth checking out again.
  • Went to an event at Hönnunarsafn Íslands, the Museum of Design and Applied Art. Small but interesting collection of Icelandic designs across a variety of mediums.
  • Went to the Nauthólsvík Geothermal Beach, which I learned is not one of the places my pool pass works, but cold plunging in the ocean is fun.
  • Did my first “vibe coding” with ChatGPT to create a script that scrapes concerts from Setlist.is and creates an iCal file I can subscribe to in Google Calendar. It works, took less than an hour total, and I wrote zero lines of codes.
  • Finished the book The Arctic: What Everyone Needs to Know (full PDF).