The Snæfellsnes Peninsula is a region in western Iceland known for its dramatic landscapes.
A break in the clouds at Ytri-Tunga- a seal watching place. I saw no seals!
At its western tip, Snæfellsjökull National Park is dominated by Snæfellsjökull Volcano, which is topped by a glacier. Today this was hidden in cloud.
Arnarstapi
Arnarstapi is a picturesque fishing village on the southern side of the Snaefellsnes peninsula. It’s dominated by a stunning coastline of natural formations.
Arnarstapi
Dramatic coastline, shaped by centuries of volcanic activity and relentless ocean waves, is lined with towering basalt cliffs, natural arches, and sea caves that shelter a variety of seabirds, so says the Guide of Iceland and I cannot disagree. Being here and walking the trail, I finally felt as if I’d arrived. Settled into Iceland, in this body, in this moment.
Arnarstapi
Following the peninsula along we reached through lava fields the black-pebble Djúpalónssandur Beach.
DjúpalónssandurDjúpalónssandur
The roar of the ocean and the power and the spray. It was magical. It was all consuming and I just wanted more. The rain was battering me on the wind and the water was getting closer to my feet. It was cold and wet and windy and wonderful. It was overpowering and exhilarating.
Kirkjufell
Final major stop was at Kirkjufell. Kirkjufell is a 463 m high hill on the north coast of Iceland’s Snæfellsnes peninsula, near the town of Grundarfjörður. Seen in Game of Thrones and called the “arrowhead mountain”, this was impressive and bold. Especially when playing background to the nearby Kirkjufellsfoss Waterfall. Beautiful.
Berserkjahraun, or the Berserks’ Lava Field, apparently, if you believe the stories.
Berserkjahraun, or the Berserks’ Lava Field, a story from the Eyrbyggja Saga. According to the saga, two Swedish berserkers cleared a path through the lava field, but were later killed by a local leader. He wore them out first in order to kill them. Strategy.
I don’t hold to the negative connotations of going berserk. However, I do lose all control when it comes to the Icelandic landscape. It floors me every time.
The last time I was in Iceland was June 2018. I was here running a creative retreat for women. On the Thursday of the week away, I facilitated a workshop at Reykjavik Museum of Photography. Probably shared what I created during that session on here somewhere. I know it included my mum and a glacier.
It was an amazing retreat, with everything provided for the participants. Even brought in my friend Sarah as the caterer. It was a week that had great highs and achievements with the costs being me exhausted and in debt.
I’ve always wanted to return to Iceland since then but a global pandemic, divorce and financial insecure got in the way. Until, I really got sick of saying, one day, and just booked the flight back in September 2024 and making sure it happened.
Always on a shoestring, but still doing it because I’m worth it, I’m staying in Reykjavik for the week. Staying in a hostel again and watching my budget. But it’s good to be back.
My first time to Iceland was 2016, the year after the shit hit the fan experience which will be 10 years ago tomorrow.
It was standing in this photography museum that I began to see myself again as a creative. Iceland helped me heal after that episode in my life and it was here that I made a promise to get my work within this space. With the women’s retreat I achieved that dream, not only working here but also sharing my words within the space.
Things don’t happen easily. There needs to be a vision and the hard work behind it. I’m not afraid of hard work. I’m more afraid of having dreams and never allowing them to come true. Because of outside barriers and obstacles I raise up within.
I came to Iceland a ruined woman. But I still had the strength of character and belief in self to grow and take risks and invest in myself.
Investing in myself is never wasted. I’m here for a week, a week that promises rain, wind and dropped temperatures. I could allow it to stop play. But I won’t. I’m here and I’m here to fill my pot by any means necessary.
I’m keeping my journals all in one place this year as I attempt to mark how many or how much I create and play and mark each day of 2025. And of course I missed my single week/day handmade journals that I’ve shared here and here. And of course I’ve moved onto another journal since my return from Paris. But this post is a marker.It’s a start in visually representing my visual journaling of 2025.
Hey I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I’ve created a blog post every day so far in 2025. I don’t want to jinx the process by mentioning it. But many moons ago, I created a blog called ‘Everyday Creativity’. The aim of this blog was to be creative every day for a year and share it. I shared images, text, quotes, poems, reflection. Small stones were around at this time and I enjoyed creating them to remember moments.
Whatever was calling me that day was posted. I loved how it kept me engaged with my creativity. It also broke down some barriers I might have constructed about what is art and creativity. I realised that there’s no reason so be so precious about. Or put it on a pedestal.
I believe we are all creative and we just need to give ourselves permission, as well as the time and space to play, to create.
This weekend saw me away from home at The Outdoor Connections weekend. It’s a weekend away for grassroots groups who are working to diversify the outdoors. Groups and organisations who connect with grassroots communities to offer opportunities outdoors with nature.
So Earth Sea Love CIC, me as Creative Director, was invited along to take part. And I went with Kiwi, my converted campervan, with the hope of camping out on the site of the youth hostel where everything was taking place.
That didn’t go plan as sleeping in my campervan wasn’t allowed on site for what reason I do not know. So each evening, I left the group to try and find a park up for the night.
Stanage Edge, Park District
I’m not complaining though as I found some lush spots to park up and rest.
Now I have returned home, I’m still a bit out of sorts. Not quite landed yet after my time away. So a way for me to get grounded is to make another handmade journal to use for my daily pages moving forward.
Well no sooner than I’d finished it, yesterday evening, that it’s full today. All I can say is that I must have had a lot to process. I know I did use it as my next to-do list after my last journal was used for the same practice. And it’s just helps me get things straight. Clear the decks and start again. Begin to work my way through the things that need to be done.
For those of us who live at the shoreline… Audre Lorde
It will be 10 years this August that I started my visual journaling practice.
Then it was called Dreaming on Paper, as I completed the course of the same name by Lisa Sonora.
I needed a safe space to explore the tumult of my feelings and thoughts. I was going through a traumatic experience of escape really. Escape from the life I’d spent the past 12 years building up, that was took away in the flick of a Facebook post.
I ran away from the public, the writing community, my home as I travelled into the Scottish Highlands and Islands. To heal.
Visual journaling helped me heal. Helps me continue to heal.
Overtime, I’ve come to understand my visual journal practice as a fugitive practice. Within these paints, images and words, dreams of freedom are planned out and eventually come to fruition. Projects, happenings, events – all on my own terms.
I mean, the whole point about escape is that it’s an activity. It’s not an achievement. You don’t ever get escaped. – Fred Moten
Within these visual journal spreads, I work out how to escape, how to get outside white supremacy culture while still having to be living on the inside. Coming to terms with the thought of that the outside can only occur from the inside. Being here.
Visual journaling is me trying to create an opening, a break in the fabric in which to slip on through into the otherside/ outside, into the woods running between the trees with the dogs barking at my feet. Creating beauty, creating a beautiful space in which to linger in while the terror rages around me.
Visual journaling is a safe space, is a nurturing space, is a free space.
Living Wild Studios 