Ic•s•eland (and Labyrinth)

“ Big enough to get lost on; small enough to find yourself. That's how to use this island. I come here to place myself in the world. Iceland is a verb and its action is to center.

There's a labyrinth not far from the entrance to the center of the earth. I've never actually seen it but its existence here is indisputable. The possibility of obtaining the innermost point of the earth is the definitive centering. And Iceland is the definitive point of departure.

The weather or even the roads here, which are more like paths, are labyrinths. Things that lead a way, forcing you out into the world and more in upon yourself. What this island is defines you. As long as you don't stop there's no getting lost, though there is the illusion. The labyrinth razes all distinction. Disorientation comes quickly. Your sense of place breaks down. Your relation to the world beyond becomes tenuous. Go on long enough and doubt may isolate you. Go on long enough and clarity will become you. ”

Roni Horn (Island Zombie / Iceland Writings, 2020, p. 55)