From May 19 to June 20, I took a photo every midnight on the balcony facing ocean. Regardless for documentation of time, looking for inspiration, or simply producing some kind of meaning within the process, I continued on pressing the shutter day after days. Gradually it had become something like muscle memory. Every day, I wait for 12 o’clock to come, put on my jacket, grab my camera, go into the windy balcony, and get this done. I even set an alarm, like Pavlov's dog (In this case, I am both Pavlov and the dog).
Until tonight, it’s neither cold nor windy. The pink-orange light is spread on the sky, with the peaceful blue of sea. Makes me think, what if this is what I’m actually waiting for? A tranquil surprise of warm Icelandic midnight with sun (I mean, not that warm, but warm enough).