Ómar Smári Kristinsson

And, of course, we also became a kind of information centre. Because these thousands of people who were coming out there into the desert were naturally grabbing everybody they could to get information. "Where is the pool? Where can I walk? What is the weather like? "When is the bus coming?" And so on and so forth. And we were answering several hundred questions a day, and usually the same questions.

I ended up drawing a map to answer these questions. By way of explanation, a map, and that map in fact, is now just our big cash cow, selling thousands of copies every year. So sometimes it pays to come up with ways to solve problems. So, yes, you could say that I have taken a detour from fishing to cartography. I haven't thought about it like that until now, but it's a bit simple, the world is a coherent whole.

ST: There seems to be a bit of a connection in all this you do, in work and hobbies and such…

It really does not matter what I do, bike books, travel companionship, drawing, hobbies, it somehow all flows into one whole before you know it. The world is like that. Maybe you experience more of it in places that are not big cities, for example, where the populations are smaller. It's just that all aspects of existence are interrelated. Life is whole.

ST: How did you arrive to live in Ísafjörður?

SM: It was so fortunate that just as we were getting bored with Germany and studying art, a place opened up on Æðey in Ísafjarðardjúp. We applied and got accepted. We ventured out to the island and learned a few things there, just by ourselves. There, we had enough time to do our craft and learn something new. Gradually it was heard in the community that there were people who knew something.

And when we then crawled ashore or started to take root here in Ísafjörður, people knew who we were and that helped us. We took on some work, a picture or a design or a website was needed, and so we just gradually got into it. Because the community is small and there is no oversupply of talented people. It is better to know a little about a lot than a lot about a little. In a small community, there will be a few of these versatile individuals.

In this tourist country, Iceland, there is often a lack of data to help tourists get directions and in my case, I started to draw maps—which suited me extremely well—because I have always really enjoyed maps. So, all of a sudden, I was able to get a job out of a hobby. Yes, I'm more of a draftsman than a visual artist, if I have to define what I do.

ST: How has your time in Æðey shaped you, and what effect did it have?

SM: We just wanted to test how this new relationship of ours would be, with two of us alone in the world for many dark winter months. And it has now endured well enough for us to be there for seven winters and we were able to use that time well—both to develop our relationship as human beings and also to have time to learn something that our minds were made for. For example, we had never really seen a computer before, but now Nína is a computer genius. And the fact that I am still able to draw is also thanks to the time I had on the island to practice, to draw and draw. And read books, it is thanks to this time that I am not completely uneducated when it comes to literature. Now maybe I know something. I've never taken the time to study the literature of the world.

ST: You've also been publishing books about touring by bicycles, right?

SM: It's absolutely wonderful to travel on a bike, at a speed where you get to see some of the country and get to hear the sounds and smell the smells—to experience your surroundings. Something you can't do in a car or a plane. But maybe it's because I'm a country boy and I've always had to do something with a purpose or run an errand, that, in order to get around, or just wander around the country, that I had to do something about it.

So I started to write books, cycling books. Sharing my happiness with other people, pointing out fun places so more people can enjoy it than just me. It was very easy, it all came from the same place. I know how to take pictures and I know how to write nice texts, I know how to draw maps, of course, there are maps in the books. My wife is a graphic designer and knows how to get this material to the printer, and then we have a friend, Hallgrímur Sveinsson, who is a publisher in The Westfjords at Vestfirska forlagið. We did some work for him and he was more than willing to try to publish these books.

Then they were sold and they have stood the test of time and now I can even assume that I have an income from this… just live on what is fun to do. I think it's a luxury.

ST: Could you describe the process of creating maps for the areas that do not have maps, yet? From land to paper.

SM: Oh: yes. I just needed to listen to their wishes—what do you want to achieve with the map? Sometimes the customer wants the drawing to look as close to the place itself as possible. Starting such a career is practical here in the Westfjords, where there are mountains all over. I can just climb the nearest mountain to get the right viewpoint. Anyway, I'm always climbing mountains with the Travel Association (Ferðafélag Ísfirðinga), or by myself and in the case of work I'm practically doing the same. No need to invest in a plane or a drone with all those mountains.

But then there are others who just want to get the emphasis on something special; for tourism or some hot springs or some natural phenomenon. Then I highlight these things in particular. Then I get a poet's license. Although this may sound a bit strange, it's actually easier to create these maps where I can stretch and pull the subject. Pull some out and skip others. And to a certain extent, these are more fun subjects.

I don't have a photographic memory, so I take a lot of photos. Luckily, we live in an age where the internet exists and there are photos of almost everything. I can get both aerial photos and photos of streets and houses. So I sit here at this [computer] screen and collect [images]. Both my own pictures and others' and then I piece them together. I start by making a pencil drawing. It's almost like I'm shaping from clay, you see.

So when I'm happy with the result, I go over to the light table and turn it on and lay the sketch there and draw. Then usually I end up using pencils and colored pencils. These are the best tools for me to make a map like this, then I can make it fairly accurate and beautiful. When it's done, I scan it in and make corrections. And finally, this goes into the computer. Nína processes it so that it can be printed.

ST: There is so much information that can be included, how do you decide what not to include?

SM: Perhaps the biggest challenge in this drawing business and in these cycling books is choosing and rejecting. When I take some area that I need to draw and make a map, or describe in a bicycle book, I have to sift out what matters, or something that is beautiful or interesting or exciting. 

It will be a personal choice, especially in the bike books. But often this is natural, well, just the customer, he says: "You have to have this and that and this and show this and that." And then sometimes there is no room for anything else.

So sometimes I get help with these decisions and sometimes I have to make them myself. And this is also often difficult when I'm drawing the maps that are supposed to show the areas as they are. Well, of course the map will never be exactly as the area is—I cannot draw every single curtain and every single cat or car wreck inside the backyard. Or yes, maybe somewhere one has to draw the line. Where do I pull them? I always have to make decisions. And maybe people do not necessarily want me to be drawing car wrecks in the backyard. So, yes, this is an endless headache, to choose and reject.

ST: Is it more challenging to do it by hand?

SM: It's much more of a challenge for me if I were to do it digitally, because I'm not from this century. I'm much more of a hands-on person, and it's much more instinctive for me, drawing. I am a painter. Yes, yes, forgive me, those of you who use a computer to draw—of course computers are wonderful drawing tools, you're just much better at it than I am. It’s just that I am a pencil kind of person.