Tag: faroese

There’s a nasty problem that afflicts most artists. Some would say it isn’t a problem, some would say it’s merely ‘perfectionism’ or something, but the fact remains: artists tend to be very critical of their own work. I don’t necessarily mean that they HATE everything they produce, though some surely do. I mean that the artist judges his work very heavy-handedly. A painter might hate a portrait simply because they got an ear slightly wrong. A photographer might hate a…

This entry was almost a deep-and-meaningful — I woke up with a start this morning with a deep, poignant phrase repeating itself over and over in my head — but after some reflection, I think I’ll wait for Monday. I need a little more time to turn it over; to taste it. Now if only I could remember the dream that obviously shook me enough to wake me up! Maybe this is what they call a ‘Eureka!’ moment… So I’m…

It’s hot and sticky in the UK again. I’m tired through lack of sleep and I refuse to pump myself full of caffeine just so I’m capable of coherent thought and thus bubble forth the beautiful, flowing prose that you expect from me. Instead, I went through photos from the G! Festival, a music festival that takes place on a beach in the Faroe Islands. You’ve seen a few but I have a lot (hundreds). There’ll probably be some more…

The Faroes consist of 18 islands, some small, some large, and only one uninhabited. The population spread is also far from equal: about two thirds of the population live in or near the capital. For 1200 years the only way to get around would’ve been by boat. We’re not talking large distances – the archipelago is only 100 miles across – but by land, because of the mountainous topology, most villages would be, by today’s standards, totally isolated. Settlements in…

(Seagulls!!) “I need to go to the loo!” She spoke with an East London accent as she dragged me by the hand through the crowd of the festival. Was this it? After two weeks of tantalisingly close encounters would my first taste of female Faroese flesh take place in a portable toilet? Rather than choosing which variety of condom would I instead have to choose which of the 10 toilets would be our destination? “You wait here!” I pouted; it…

I’m back in in the UK after a bumpy flight and a horrible slog across a very busy rail network (great timing for industrial union action!) It was made all the more enjoyable by the company of a cute Faroese girl that I will never meet again — and a nice Australian guy that runs a large chain of bakeries across Canada. You meet all sorts on trains and planes! Anyway, just time for a dorky photo of me and…