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  • As I secured my daughter in the back seat and then closed the door of my car, I noticed the artwork in the small rear window. The reflection of the surrounding as another layer in a beautiful piece of art. We were in Bergstaðastræti about to head back home and it became vivid because of humidity, brought by the cold outside and the warmth inside.

    The cold outside and the warmth inside.

    She was probably just passing time when she did it and it must have been when I asked her to wait in the car that morning as I ran inside the house again because I had forgotten to take my mobile phone with me, my bag or something else. I tend to forget things.

    I stood there in the steep Bergstaðarstræti for a while, watching the little piece of art. It took me places. It made me think: that's beautiful.

    It also made me think of caves. Hunters, gatherers. Rituals. Dots on owls' feathers. Dots on people's faces.

    It made me think of .com. It made me think of prehistoric times meshed with sprayed expressions on city surfaces.

    All in one window.
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