BIRGITTA JONSDOTTIR

Birgitta Jonsdottir is a poet, writer, journalist, activist and editor.

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I AM ART

I have always found it impossible to draw a line between my work and me. Everything I do is a part of who I am. In order to develop my creations I have to constantly evolve. I have to be able to be like a chameleon, to absorb all that is around me and reflect it within. After that I can be like a projector of what I have experienced internally as the conscience of the external experience and thus I have taken down a border. I have become a little closer to you and to me.

I see the external world as a direct reflection of my inner world. I see my little world that I move and breath within reflected in the entire world.

Everything that happens in the world outside me is moving within me and I am moving with everything that is happening within the world.

I often wonder why I do what I do. Why do I take the leap of faith over and over no matter if I know that sometimes I will not fly but fall all the way to the bottomless bottom?
If I would never had taken the leap of faith into the unknown would I be who I am? I have paid dearly for depth, for being able to show compassion and understand that my value as a person is on an equal basis as the starving child in Africa or the starved little rich kid on Capitol Hill.

The greatest chance we take as artists is not a new color or a new shocking shape but the chance of change within. The greatest chance we can take as artists is to take down our internal borders and to realize that fame or fortunes have nothing to do with our personal value. Our personal value comes from internal emotions that are selfless, transparent experience that enriches not only ourselves but the things we create. The greatest art is not art itself but how we inspire others.

It is easy to play with the human emotion, we have all the formulas to sensationalize and manipulate their feelings. But does it inspire them to go out and do something like take the leap of faith and follow their vision and dreams.

Perhaps one of the greatest abilities of the human is the fact we dream and we follow our dreams. We have visions and we follow them. Sometimes we lack the understanding of why we want to follow those dreams and visions and get stuck within a principle.

I could perhaps have this dream of getting the Nobel Prize. But something within actually knows that it wouldn't mean anything really. Not if my work wouldn't have the ability to reach out to people and inspire them to throw away their inhabitation's and just do it. And I could never get the Nobel Prize because my art is not for a chosen few that have taken a university degree in understanding art and symbolism. My writing is not for scholars and critics. All I do is for everyone, especially those that don't think they care for art and culture. I don't make what I make for me but for you and me.

By making something that someone will eventually experience I will become part of that person and that person will become a part of me.
That is my reward for taking the leap
for being me
by all possible means.

I have been doing a lot of thinking in the last few weeks
my life has turned around again full circle
all of a sudden everything that was is no more
and I have to start at a new beginning
I am broke, I took the leap of faith all the way to the
other end of the world
again
and
I am forced to go back to my little island of extremes
and I had sold everything I owned and the money
has blown into the wind and vanished.
But the price of experience can never be set
So I am taking another leap of faith
In the process I have changed again
and I need to eat my hat more then twice
but that is ok
We as humans are entitled to fall
So we may rise again
and again

Someone once said that one Birgitta year is like 7 years for others
and it is intense but I feel blessed as well
I feel blessed to have acquired so much experience
so many failures and so many tragedies
not that I want any more
but if there are more
I see myself as clay
and it will mold me again into something new
and thus I will have more to give
because I have been so many things

So it is that life is beautiful
and always exactly as beautiful as we make it to be
We don't need more things
We need to give more
because that is the only thing that really fills that empty feeling inside
So if you ever feel miserable
go and help someone that is more miserable
If you ever feel hungry
go feed someone that is starving

And all this can of course be taken metaphorically into an artistic context

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ENOUGH! (NÚ ER NÓG KOMIÐ!)

enough blood
has been spilled

enough hatred
has been bred

enough weapons
have been created

enough children
have died

enough, enough

the womb of the mother
bleeding
the breasts dry

enough, enough

time now
for the peoples of this world
to unite
or our world will collapse
into darkness
time to unite
for real changes
for us all
not just the chosen few

time for us to choose for us all
we are all chosen to lead our world into another reality
feed her womb
let the milk flow for us all
in abundance
as intended from the beginning of time

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FREEDOM (FRELSI)

If you ask me about faith
I will tell you
That my faith has no name
I belong to no church, or religion
Every place on earth
Is my place of worship
All of gods names are my god names
Beyond name
It is what it is

If you ask me about where I come from
I will tell you, that I was born on an island
But I belong to all the people that live on this Earth
And all of Earths different places are my home

In my answers I feel freedom
I am no longer caged by nationality,
religion or politics

My home is this planet
And the universe the source of my faith

I am what I am

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HEROES (HETJUR)

Giving up the roots
giving up the land of the ancestors
the soil that embraces their history.

Choosing peace
over blood stained future,
choosing a future on a new soil,
for their children.

Not because of greed,
but courage.

It takes courage to leave,
all that is known,
instead of taking part
in the war of the worlds.

It takes courage
to set foot on boats,
so ancient,
that most of them sink,
into the void of the unknown,
or to be returned with shame,
at camps of disgrace.

It takes courage beyond words,
to settle in a new soil,
where all that was is no more
but a distant memory.

The true heroes of our world,
leave behind their small fortunes,
their education,
their family,
their culture.

They choose peace.

The true heroes of our world
choose to flee,
instead of pushing automatic rifles
in the hands of their sons.

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HORROR OF WAR (STRÍÐS HRYLLINGUR)

headless bodies
burned flesh
a wedding band
on a hand that belonged to a father
torn off the body
a memory of a different past

headless bodies
a lonely head in a green field
eyes wide open
in the hollow a reflection of
untold love
mountains of starved children
shiny bones
burning flesh
shocked and awed
by the images of mothers
miscarrying their unborn children
shocked and awed
by the whimpering
and the silent fear
of the countless civilians
of the horrors of war

these are images
we should put in a frame
mount them in our homes
so we never forget
the true horror of war

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MY VOICE (RÖDD MÍN)

Who speaks out for the nameless?
Silence - a cocoon of comfort
Their grief as distant as the stars

Who speaks for the countless
victims of terror and torment
inflicted by the great eagle

Lies, lies, lies.
My voice is small,
low, invisible.

If we all dream the same dream,
manifest it will,
layer upon layer.

Our world is dark,
our leaders a reflection of our darkest fears,
manifested in a power of denial.

In silence we sit in our homes,
comfortable when ever we can wipe
those mountains of flesh and bones
out of our memory.
Comfortable when bleaching
out the stains of blood
coloring everything we consume.

Is this the time for action?
Can my small voice
make a difference?
Is there any point in doing anything?

Who will speak for those that have no voice left?
Consumed in grief and despair,
their children's flesh torn of their sweet faces
in the name of an alien freedom.

My voice is clear,
my heart knows no fear,
but the fear of a silent world.
The fear of indifferent world.

Have we lost all
comprehension
of what is real?

My voice is small,
but it has a sound,
a noise,
cutting little holes in the illusion that
it is safe to shut up
in comfort.
To forget the unforgettable.
Our souls in agony.
But voice is making noise
waiting for other voices to open up
so we may flood the empire of the eagle with
all that is denied in a massive wave of voices.

War is not peace
and peace is not war.

War is war.
Peace is peace.
Terror is terror.
Fear is fear.
No more, no less.

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WARRIORS OF WORDS (ORÐAVÍKINGAR)

listen poets of the world
your words are mighty
your vision is clear
war is war is war
never peace
never healing
if war

the oracle of history speaks
through your words
through your courage
fight with the pen
with your vision
but most importantly
open the space between space
the world between worlds
between your words

the world is not simple
it is not even one
it is in layers of understanding
create that empty space
of understanding
by heart on fire
by compassion
by being unbearably honest

create that space for free thinking
curling through your words
to hit in the heart of hearts
like a bolt of enlightenment

you are the carrier of the flame
the favorite of the muse
the warrior of words
truth truth truth
seek it speak it

the bush is on fire
illusions run deep
seek speak the truth
and hope shall remain
peace shall remain
in the s p a c e

This poem is dedicated to all the poets, writers, artists, thinkers, spiritual leaders that made the Book of Hope & the World Healing Book possible.