icELand

THE CITY

Iceland isn't only glaciers and black sand.

Reykjavik is corrugated tin in every color someone dared to paint — mismatched roofs, weathered sliding, a house that looks like no house beside it. Character built one sheet of metal at a time.

I Photograph the town the way I'd photograph a person's face; for what make it unrepeatable.

Then the road opens and the color drains into something older.

Steam rising off a field that shouldn't be warm. A waterall you hear before you see. The particular quiet of standing somewhere the scale remind you how small you are.