Antarctica

As a photographer, I arrived expecting silence and emptiness. What I found was intensity.

Antarctica looks still, but it is never quiet. Ice cracks like lightning without a sky. Sound arrives without warning and your eyes can't keep up. Scale collapses, distances lie, mountains float, time stretches.

The land is almost monochrome, yet filled with colour, blues buried in white, greens that feel alive, and greys that feel warm. With no reference points, your mind invents them, and gets them wrong.

This place feels distant from human life, yet essential to it. An alien world, nearly uninhabitable, sustaining life in forms that are large and small, resilient but on edge. Everything here moves slowly, except the change. Cracks widen. Ice shifts too fast.

Antarctica does not perform for the camera. It tests it. And quietly, it tests us, our patience, and our resolve.