Black asphalt of the road number one crosses the north of Iceland, now covered in snow. Nearly free of any civilization landscape extends around. Its exhaustive beauty and desolation are ceased by the sound of snow, which is crushing below my feet. While looking for a frame, I infringe with remorse woven from ice city of volcanic stones. Meanwhile, the sun climbes the meridian, for a short moment of time raising its eyelid over the ridge of nearby mountains.
I switch the lens. I hold my breath.
The quick return reflex mirror flips out and congeal in focus for a fraction of silence. It falls slowly then, keeping behind a handful of icelanding light. Just enough for one glance. Just enough for a moment in-between.
The photos here were a part of exibition in Centre for Contemporary Art in Toruń, 2020