In Icelandic, the term “á landinu” literally means “on the land”. As a foreigner who is drawn to Iceland’s landscape, people and culture I sense a hidden subtext behind the term. I once heard an Icelander at the airport use it to ask if a friend had landed; were they “on the land”? At that moment I perceived a subtle allusion to "on the land of Iceland"; the birthplace of every Icelander; the homeland. For me this suggested that the Icelandic language itself reveals an almost preconscious connection between the land and Icelandic identity.

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I have purposely not focused on the dramatic beauty of waterfalls, volcanoes or glaciers, but rather on the more banal and incidental details, like a cleft in the hillside or bleached white branches on the black sand which are specific to Iceland but easily overlooked. I also search for examples of human infrastructure that contrast with the rugged landscape, such as the clean lines of geothermal pipes or the bold use of color on gas stations and disintegrating old buildings. Some of these structures show a distinct resourcefulness and respect for a pristine and unique natural world, while others have been weathered and defeated by an unforgiving climate. I see these scenes as metaphors for the identity and spirit of the Icelandic people who have a deep reverence for, but also defiance against, the terrifying but sublime bleakness of the misty moss-covered lava fields in a land of ice.