A New Project… a Photography Book
The First 50,000 Frames: How This Book is Beginning
Since 2012, when I first set foot on the icy shores of Svalbard, I’ve returned again and again to the polar regions—drawn not only by their visual majesty, but by their silence, their slowness, their changing light. Over time, the archive grew vast.
Svalbard, March 2016
Now, after more than a decade of wandering and watching, I’ve begun shaping that work into a photography book. Tentatively titled The Dream of Ice, this project is not a document, but a meditation: on stillness, on transformation, on the subtle presence of life within a frozen world.
Step 1: Tagging the Archive
Antarctica, March 2023
The starting point was scale: over 50,000 photographs tagged with ice. Glaciers, meltwater, sea ice, icebergs, pressure lines, abstract textures. But also: wildlife and birds—polar bears, penguins, reindeer, foxes—captured as quiet figures within this cold geometry.
Some images were taken moments after dawn, others in high winds. Together, they span multiple polar locations and seasons—fragments of ice collected since that first journey to Svalbard.
By the way, the photos I’m including are just random photos I’ve come across while going through the archives.
Step 2: First Culling and Thematic Filtering
With the full archive tagged, I began the long process of refining. This phase combined instinct and intention. First, I made a broad sweep—removing technically weak images, duplicates, and anything that didn’t carry emotional weight. Then I moved more slowly, filtering for tone and mood.
Svalbard, September 2022
I wasn’t only looking for what stood out, but for what held together—images that felt quiet, that carried light gently, or contained a subtle tension within form. I began noticing patterns—atmospheric rhythms, recurring shapes, certain silences.
By the end of this phase, I had reduced the selection to about 3,000–3,500 images. Still more than I could use, but now I could begin to see the outline of a book.
Step 3: Pre-Sequence Refinement
Here, I began to look not just at single images, but at relationships—how one leads into another, how contrasts rest or build tension. This wasn’t about selection, but about potential narrative structure.
By the end of this process, I had gathered a working collection of about 1,000–1,200 images. Not a final edit, but a pool—a curated body from which the real story can begin to take shape.
What’s Next?
Svalbard, March 2016
Next comes the sculpting: defining chapter arcs, establishing tonal transitions, and choosing the images that best hold the emotional weight of the book. I’ll be sharing that journey here—openly, imperfectly, and with care.
The Dream of Ice is still forming. Like its subject, it will shift, soften, and crystallize in its own time. Thank you for stepping into this cold, quiet process with me.