The landscape reveals itself as a living artwork. A shifting canvas shaped by ice, water and time. What appears chaotic from the ground, suddenly becomes calm and composed. Almost like painting. Lines branch out like arteries, colours blend like ink and textures form patterns that seem too precise to be natural.

Each flight brought a new perspective. A different season, light, or melt level changed everything. Rivers that were deep blue one visit turned bright green the next. Rivers I had photographed before had shifted completely or disappeared. 

Iceland taught me that nature doesn’t just shape land; it draws, erases, and redraws continuously. A visual story crafted by nature and guided by the place Where Ice Flows.