We have already said goodbye to Iceland, but there is one more adventure to share. In April I was visited by my dear friends Wojtek and Barbara, who co-creates the blog Gone With the Frame. They brought along something that delighted my soul immensely - three analog cameras and nine films. Their arrival made me very happy, but the possibility to appreciate the analog was a wonderful gift from their side!

_{Autor: Hive account@saunter}

This entry will not be typical as the photos will not be presented chronologically. Instead, it will be structured according to cameras and films we used. This will ensure consistency and you will be able to see the same places in completely different shots. I think that the selected and compiled photos show how diverse analog photography can be and how much depends on the material on which the photo is taken, but also on the camera and, above all, the lens. The authors of the photos are me, Wojtek and Basia. I mainly used MJU, so most of the photos from this camera are mine, only only a few from other films.

You could read about most of these places in my previous entries about Westfjords here, here, here and here. With the exception of one place I've seen for the first time and which history is definitely worth mentioning, I won't be writing too much about the other places you can read in the previous entries. With the rented car we also went to the area around the lake Myvatn and Akureyri, about which I wrote here. Luckily Czarek joined the trip, for whom it was the second time on western fjords (although we saw them independently).

Here we go!

Olympus MJU I

Ilford Pan 400

Relaxation in numerous hot springs is one of the most pleasant activities on the western fjords :)

I really wanted to take some pictures during this trip in small, remote Icelandic villages. We visited a few of them, the coolest of which were those that needed bouncing off the main road around the peninsula – Bolungarvík, Suðureyri and Flateyri.

Kodak Color Plus 200

Látrabjarg! Puffins once again I did not witness, well, the curse still follows me.

Kodak Gold 200

I guess it's only because of the almost complete lack of insects on the island that fish can be dried in this way. One of the coolest Icelandic delicacies.

We're getting to a place I wanted to write a little bit about. It is a museum of sculptor Samúel Jónsson located in the distant village Selárdalur in the westernmost part of the peninsula. It is hard to call it a village, because apart from a few houses and a museum there is nothing really there. The road leading to Selárdalur is gravel, full of holes awaiting an inattentive driver. For my guests the fact that they didn't know where we were going was prolonging the strenuous ride. I decided to surprise them because as fans of Sigur Rós they know "through and through" their beautiful DVD entitled Heima, which means simply "at home". As part of this DVD, Sigur Rós made a tour of Iceland, playing in interesting, unique, often deserted places. One of these places was the unfinished museum of Samúel Jónsson. The sun was setting, the road was long, we were tired after a whole day of excitement, so I played one of the band's albums and enjoyed the taste of the upcoming surprise.

Okay, but in addition to our sentimental value, the story of Samúel Jónsson is captivating. The museum is the place where he lived and where are the sculptures he created all his life. I knew his story before, but some of it was supplemented by a marriage that we helped nearby with a cupboard bargain.

Samúel Jónsson was an eccentric artist who was mainly involved in sculpture and painting. Born in 1884, he lived in Iceland, which was very poor at that time. Apparently he wasn't famous for his intelligence, he wasn't eager to work all his life, being a farmer did not really work out for him. He married a housekeeper he hired, with whom he had three children, but each of them died in their early childhood. He had always been a loner and didn't have many friends. He has always been passionate about creating and spending time in nature. When the time came to retire, he could finally fully and peacefully devote himself exclusively to art.

Samúel created simple, naive art. He never had any artistic education and was completely self-taught. His sculptures emanate a childlike sensitivity. He was also called "an artist with a child's heart" (listamaðurinn með barnshjartað). He used simple, pastel colours and, above all, concrete as a main material. He was creating out of the pure joy of creation. Samúel created a beautiful altar for a nearby church, which was not accepted, because the existing altar was also old and valuable. So Samúel built his own church, which took him three years to do, and around his house he decided to build an open art gallery in the open air. He did all the work by solely hand, without electricity and without any machines. He even crafted a miniature of St. Peter's Basilica in wood, relying entirely on the postcard (since he had never been abroad).

In his old age, he began to lose his sight. When his vision was waning, he decided to mark the path from his house to the beach with large white shells so that he could continue to draw sand from there to the make concrete for his work. He died in 1969, never gaining fame. Only after his death peopled wondered what to do with all his belongings and works. His legacy was finally taken care of by a specially formed association.

There is something moving and sad in his history. Among the interviews conducted after his death with people who knew him is the figure of a good-natured, straightforward man with an extraordinary strength of character and an invincible, unbroken passion for creation. Despite the hardships that he had to face during his life in this land, which is not granted to man, it is impossible not to perceive his message from his sculptures and paintings that life is simply good. And that's it.

We spent the evening and night after visiting Samúel Jónsson's house in this geothermal pool, all for just us.

Yashica T3

Fuji Pro 400H

On the first day of the trip I was sleeping off the night shift, which ended the same morning.

Fuji Pro 400H

@Saunter just before departure for international waters during the Cod Wars, 1956 (black and white).

New, both for me and for Czarek, was also a beach Rauðisandur, literally "red beach". One of the few non-black beaches in Iceland. The endless space instantly gives its peace and quiet. Around there is a wonderful nothingness, sweet, wonderful, lovely nothingness.