Countless times I stop and think to myself,

"Can you see this? ... I hope that you can see this too".

I do not know what happens after you die. I've given this much thought since I've lost my mother.. even rummaged through books and articles on the subject. My beliefs have oscillated over the years but one thought has made itself home in my mind.

That no matter what happens to your soul after you die, in the very least,

I hope, mom, that you can continue to see life through my eyes.

The idea to spend time in Iceland was met with both enthusiasm and skepticism. While most spoke well wishes, some held concerns that I was wandering or lost altogether. Quitting my job, forgoing my apartment, selling my things - it must have painted an unstable picture. It seemed unreasonable. It seemed rash. Yet I had difficulty coming to grips with their words. On the contrary, I felt that I was onto something, that I was tapping into thoughts and feelings and ideas that I have never had before. I spent two years in a fog of grief and numbness over the loss of my mother, I was ready to feel alive again.

Once the plane's wheels hit the landing strip, I had to get out. The cool Icelandic air filled my lungs and recharged my senses after being grounded in the airport for the previous 24 hours. A land so utterly foreign to me began to unveil itself, a land that felt strangely like coming home.

Harpa met the style of Nordic design that has always drawn me to Scandinavia. It is evident in its straight lines, concrete floors, and cool blues and greys. The structure alone alluring me back daily, despite the other remarkable cultural life that lives there. Harpa is situated directly on the sea with a small harbor nearby. After weeks of watching boats come in and out of harbor, I needed to be on one of those boats.