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Vaterland
A photographic project tracing an inheritance that was handed down but never fully lived in.
Iceland, my second fatherland, photographed
in the coldest temperatures
measured in 25
years: −17°C by day, down to −33°C at night.
No people, no faces,
no proof I was ever there.
What’s left is the land alone,
empty and quietly loud.
I’ve come to think, absence might not
be the opposite of belonging.
It might be one of its shapes.
The land does not know me,
but it keeps seeking my attention.
Can you inherit a place that has
no memory of you?