He pointed out a 200 m 2 area at the station’s entrance that would need to be laid with the kind of paving stones that could withstand heavy loads. Around the building was a large uncultivated lot covered with northern dock, dandelions, broken glass, and mayweed, and the foreman explained that the time had come to get down to business and finish paving it. He drove me to Vesturbær, a neighborhood on the west side of Reykjavík, and stopped at a giant, gray, clunky-looking building, one of those mysterious windowless pumping stations run by Hitaveita that one finds here and there in town. One day, the foreman came and picked me up from the banal task of overseeing a group of unbearable teenage boys on a summer work program. In those days we found him strict, but today we would call his behavior “passive aggressive.” He never wanted to be asked anything he would explain the work to us, and then we’d tiptoe around him and try to read his thoughts instead of asking questions. My interest in architecture was sparked while I was working as a gardener for Hitaveita, Reykjavík’s Geothermal Power Company, when I was nineteen years old. Giantstones are directly linked to my decision to become an architect. Six others have been built using the same design. I designed the apartment building, and it’s probably one of the ugliest apartment buildings in the country. The sturdiest ones, designed for heavy traffic, were 10 cm thick but the paving stone that has not yet passed through the car window is 5 cm thick, as it was intended for the sidewalk in front of an apartment building. They were used extensively around Reykjavík Harbor and later as roadstones on Austurstræti, our main street. They’re about the size of bricks and made of durable concrete. Paving stones under the brand name Jötunsteinar® (Giantstones) were first produced in Iceland in 1989 and are still being made. I can zoom in on him and see how he’s looking at the stone. The stone is perched against the window it’s traveling at high speed but the window is still intact. But, because this is one of those moments I can cut down into split seconds, no harm has yet been done.
I threw it trusting that the damage would be worth the cost. The stone is now touching the window, and although it’s a rather new Range Rover and the damage could be considerable, I didn’t throw the stone on a whim. Something major must have happened, and yes, a great deal has happened. So it wasn’t exactly like me to hurl a big stone at the side window of this car. I say “mmm-hmm” to this and that, when I should be setting clear boundaries, professionally and personally. I’m critical but not unfair, and sometimes I’m far too cooperative.
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I’ve never gotten into trouble with the law and never broke windows during my time at Árbæjarskóli, my elementary school-probably the only one in my group of friends who didn’t dare do it. I’m very ordinary, just to make it clear. But I did not throw the stone in haste or panic it was a well-considered decision.Īs I’m thinking this, it’s as if the paving stone has formed a small depression in the car window, not unlike how the water in a geyser expands into a sphere at the surface before it shoots into the air. It will inevitably break and there will be consequences. One corner of the stone is now touching the window, which is still intact. Time is so interesting-how it’s possible to zoom in on a single moment. I watch it spin slowly as it approaches the driver’s side window. I’ve just picked up a concrete paving stone, swung it with my right hand, and let it fly in the direction of a 2020 Range Rover Vogue. Sometimes whole years pass evoking only a few memories, while some moments are captured at such high resolution in my mind, I could zoom in and uncover endless split-second details.
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