I've been in Iceland for four weeks now (which seems impossible), but haven't blogged my daily adventures, like I have done over the last few months.  Most days would go something like "I woke up, faffed around in my studio for six hours, collected objects from the beach, watched an episode of The Undersea World of Jacques Cousteau and went to bed."  It wouldn't make the most riveting of journals, but that doesn't mean it isn't magical.

Driving around Lake Myvatn and its surrounds was like driving on a different planet - milky blue pools contrasted with the sprawling orange deserts, and steamy mud pots gurgled and bubbled underfoot.