The place where I write: Eiríkur Örn Norðdahl [Iceland]
This is my desk. Quite simply. It tends to get cluttered up. The computer is mostly used for Facebook and music – I’m writing in the book, paper and pen. This is not always the case. The black boxes on the right hand side are „business papers“ – taxes and so forth. On top of it is a DVD with a children’s (Go Diego Go) belonging to my son, who left to be with his mother a few days ago. The photographs on the wall are (from the left) of my grandmother, who died last winter, with my (german-icelandic) grandfather who died when I was small; then my grandmother with her siblings and finally a sonar picture of a daughter I’m expecting in april (with my ex-wife). The white note on the wall is to remind me to return a children’s book to the library (I have still not returned it, it’s been more than a month). The coffee clock behind the computer does not work. The big stapler was bought in 2001 to facilitate self-publishing of chap books. It sadly never saw much use (I lent it to a friend who left the country and buried it in his parents’ storage, where it was found long after my need to self-publish chap books had expired). The envelope on the right contains my Finnish tax return, filling it out is an ominous task which scares me. The poster on the wall is from a cross country tour that I did with a group of poets in the summer of 2003 – ten years ago. The two frames on the left side of the desk, leaning against the wall, are award documents. The guitar on the right does not get much use. Like many poets I wish I was a rockstar, but I really prefer a steel string guitar to a classical – and I learned to play the electric, not an acoustic. But playing an electric guitar makes no sense if you’re not in a band.
Eiríkur Örn Norðdahl, Ísafjörður/Iceland