Rough grey. Soft greens. Sharp lines in the never ending blue.
When the weather is clear you can see Bøsdalafossur from afar.
Drangarnir and the spikes on top of Tindhólmur.
But you don’t know all these names. Yet.
Landmass as wavy as the ocean.
You still remember the euphoria growing in your belly. Like the first time. The first time.
Never knew that the heart-shaped pink glasses could show you such vast emerald.
This was three years ago.
You were a summer school student. Three weeks paradise.
You wanted to come back.
Back next summer.
You meet him. Love grows, a plan forms. Moving.
But the weather is not always clear.
Thick fog welling up on the horizon.
They call it: maybe the last paradise on earth.
But what lies beyond the grey?
Tradition. Belief. Disparity.
Codes, familiar but more rigorous.
You had to realise, you came from a bubble where queerness is the norm and folks openly talk about their period.
Came to where you are welcome, as long as you play by unwritten rules.
Last paradise for whom?
But the weather is not always foggy either.
Friends. Husband. Supporters. Like minded. Open minded.
Things are moving even in the remote paradise.
Faroe Pride is every year. Voices are getting louder.
Maybe the heart-shaped glasses can soon see: Beyond the grey, babypink lies.
Tórshavn 2021 Theresa K. Jakobsen