There is something in between life and death
What happens in the intervals between place and person? Between places and human history, between the place and its memory? Paths have been trodden in the mountainous landscape. Paths that the Sami people and their reindeer created long ago, and used for centuries. They walked through this place, once grazing land for reindeer, until the Swede came and paved roads. It is cracking today, the ground is breaking open and to leave a wound that will never heal. The Swedish state is selling off the natural resources of the north for free. Foreign mining companies are free to come and dig into our fragile, Arctic climate. The culturally entrenched reindeer suffer, not to mention how it affects the landscape.