Streaming rivulets of water trailing down sleek flanks, mirrored by muddied ribbons winding down the rocky mountain slopes.
While hiking along the edge of an inlet in Ísafjörður, (you can see the original travel log here) I wandered into the midst of a small group of Icelandic Horses. Stocky and stalwart, with pony-esque faces and thick trunks, they're built for the cold wind and frequent deluges. Bundled head to toe under the driving rain and blurred, dove grey skies, I walked among them for a time; they intermittently broke into short gallops for reasons I couldn't and didn't try to comprehend. Drinking in the downpour and laughing with wild joy, here is a full set of photos I took of these powerfully free creatures running through sodden fields. While they aren't technically the most fantastic photos I've ever taken, the fierce emotion they evoke have made them some of the most sought after shots I've ever produced.
Pricked ears and gentle nickering barely heard over the layered hissing of fat droplets hitting bent grass stalks. My legs drag imprecise channels through the meadow, and the skin of my thighs tingles under layers of wool and nylon, unsure in its own sensations — merely cold, or has the insistent rain found a chink in my backwoods armor? I crouch, angled into the wind, closing my eyes against the brisk slaps from damp and icy fingers. When I open them again, the herd has shifted. Muffled thuds carried away instantly by the wild air seem strangely disjointed and disconnected from the bulky hooves producing them.
The rain falls harder, and the runnels visible in the damp fur highlight gliding muscle as a tracery of guides highlight a map. Perfect stillness — broken only by the shine of bottomless, docile eyes, all trained on me as I shift comfortably on my heels to return the gaze. Trampled areas of matted stalks are razed in a burst of frenetic movement; I can almost imagine seeing the curtain of the cloudburst parted by wildly tossed manes and whipping tails. I remain silent as they thunder in the space of steps, explosive energy expended in seconds, returning to a placid state before I can count the drumming blows that drove them past.
This wildness; this primal movement. I want to recreate it, live it, find a way to let the same rain hit, shaping lines in my soul and the stuff of my being, and leave the earth beneath me trembling from my quixotic flights. Filled to bursting with desire and awe, I open the shutter again and freeze as much of this essence in time as I can. When I finally leave the field, my passage feels ungainly and inconsequential, but my eyes and heart push through the misty shroud in homage to flashing eyes and flaring nostrils, and I think it might be close enough.
I've offered these up as prints in any size for purchase, and I've been overwhelmed at the response...they have quickly become some of my best-sellers. I'd love to see my work in the homes of community!
Since I've been asked quite often, yes, I do sell prints for crypto. In fact, I'll even trade ya for cool stuff YOU make. If you ever see a photo in one of my posts that you love, come and find me on Discord or leave a comment on the post... I'd be happy to find some way to put something beautiful into your hands if you love it. While I hope to support myself with ventures like this in the future, I kind of find it more rewarding to match people up with the images that speak to them. So far, readers in three countries and four US states have prints I've sent out! 🖤 Maybe I can send you something special too.
All of these photos, stories, and words are my own original work, inspired by my travels all over this pretty blue marble of ours. I hope you like them. 🌶️