Feb 2nd

The days are flying by and I have become so used to the howling of the sled dogs I will miss them when I leave. They are so bad though all chained up either curled up asleep in the thick snow or swearing and  howling at each other as soon as one starts them off. My time here is taken up with recording and documenting in the museum or drawing and painting in the amazing little house I live in. I walked a long way yesterday down to the harbour at the other end of the village. There is a lot of ice there but so far the sea hasn't actually frozen.  I have been invited by Beathe and her family to supper on Saturday so at last I will find out what seal really tastes like. I find the solitude in this magical place awe inspiring, looking out onto the snow and ice, watching the ever changing landscape of icebergs, small ones near and the huge ones I can see on the horizon allows me to locate that stillness I often loose when bombing around at home. The Greenlander's have it though, their voices are musical and quiet, movements are fluid and passive and the joy and appreciation of life and also death here is found everywhere. I am taking loads of photographs which I will upload when I get home. I apologies that this diary is so spasmodic but it really does depend on my being in the museum.