THE JOURNEY

For more than a decade, photography has taken me into remote landscapes where the noise of everyday life begins to fall away.

I am drawn to moments of scale, silence and wonder — the kind that stop you before you ever reach for a camera.

Every photograph begins there: with the feeling of being fully present in a place larger than yourself.

Long before the shutter is pressed, there is the journey itself — the distance, the weather, the weight of the equipment and the uncertainty of what the landscape will give back.

Some photographs begin with hours on foot. Others with days spent far from comfort, waiting for conditions that may never arrive.

The effort is not a story added afterwards. It becomes part of the photograph.

Over time, I began to understand that the moments I was searching for had something in common: awe.

That feeling of encountering something vast, beautiful or difficult to fully comprehend has shaped the way I photograph — and eventually became part of my academic work as well.

My research explored how encounters with nature-induced awe can influence the way we feel, connect and relate to the world around us.

Photography became my way of carrying a fragment of that experience home.

Once I reach a place, the work becomes quieter.

I look for balance, light and a sense of presence — and then I wait. The landscape sets the pace. Sometimes everything comes together in minutes. Sometimes the photograph never happens.

I am not interested in forcing a place into something it was not. What matters to me is preserving something of what it actually felt like to stand there.

Reaching certain landscapes means accepting uncertainty, discomfort and time — long before there is any photograph to bring home.