Arctic Circle Springtime Gothic

Inside Siberia’s isolated community of forgotten women. Photographed by Oded Wagenstein.

“In the remote village of Yar-Sale in Northern Siberia, live a group of elderly women. They were once part of a nomadic community of reindeer herders. However, in their old age, they spend most of their days in seclusion, isolated from the world they loved and their community. While men are usually encouraged to remain within the migrating community and maintain their social roles, the women often face the struggles of old age alone.It took a flight, a sixty-hour train ride from Moscow, and a seven-hour bone-breaking drive across a frozen river to meet them. I immersed myself in their closed community, and for days, over many cups of tea, they shared their stories, lullabies, and longings with me.On this series, the memories of the past, represented by the images of the outside world, are combined with the portraits of current reality.

By doing so, I tried to give their stories a visual representation. One that could last after they are already gone.  

(*Like Last Year’s Snow is a Yiddish expression – referring to something which is not relevant anymore)”

- Oded Wagenstein

In 1869 the New Bedford artist and photographer William Bradford took part in an expedition to northern Greenland sponsored by a Boston family. The trip was documented in this book, with albumen photos that are considered the finest artic photos of the mid to late 19 th century. The book is scarce with copies selling in the 125-150000 range.

LOOK AT THESE ABSOLUTE UNITS AT OSAKA AQUARIUM… round…………

also… plotting jailbreaks between bouts of sleep…

Alaska/Far Northern Gothic

You had a neighbor yesterday. You’re sure of it, but when you walk the trail between your properties there’s no sign of their house. You recall their faces, but not their names. The distance between you and the next nearest living human continues to grow.

On the longest night of the year, you wake at midnight to a high noon sun. Its blinding light renders the snow a featureless, glimmering white. You cannot even see the trees.

You visit Barrow for Nalukataq and are invited to participate in the blanket toss. When you come back down, there is no one to catch you.

You open the windows.  Pile snow on your bed. Allow icicles to form on your ceiling. It is still too hot to sleep.

You spy a raven near the grocer’s with an eyeball in its beak. You tell yourself that it must be the scavenged remains of some animal. It couldn’t be human. It couldn’t be your own.

You come back from the outhouse to find the door to your cabin locked. You see movement through the window. You live alone.

When the snow finally melts, you find something that you lost years ago. In another state. Another life. It is something you hoped to never find again.

The river in Nenana has been frozen for years. The Ice Classic continues to pool their bets, leading more and more people to pay in with the hope that this year it won’t roll over. The year passes. There is still no sign of spring.

This year’s Iditarod winner harnessed wolves instead of dogs. They froth at the mouth and drip blood from long fangs. No one but you seems to notice.

Your roommate brushes her teeth and spits out blood. She looks thin, almost gaunt, even though she’s been eating constantly for the last week. It occurs to you that you haven’t seen her boyfriend around lately. She smiles. Her teeth are sharp and cold.

Late one night, you whistle at the aurora. The last thing you hear is the aurora whistling back.

Nice outfit loser 🙄 1845 called. The Franklin expedition was just sighted by whalers in Baffin Bay awaiting good conditions to enter the arctic labyrinth

Reading anything about Arctic explorers you're just sitting there like

Arctic sun.  More Adventures. 1940.  Armstrong Sperry. 

Internet Archive

Arctic Gothic as inspired by Fortitude

It’s always snowing. It will never not be snowing. It snows and snows and snows, yet the drifts never gets any taller. 

The sun won’t rise for three months. It won’t ever rise again. Your life now exists in darkness.

You’re not allowed to die there because you’ll never decay. But people are already decaying. 

Respect the polar bears. They were here first. What do we do about the polar bear within us all?

The Northern Lights brighten the night sky in the dark winter, but they will never brighten your soul.

Everything is frozen, just like I am frozen by my thoughts.

The Permafrost never forgets. It won’t let you forget either. Soon it will make you remember. 

The cold bites at those exposed to it for too long. Bite back. Always bite back.

Everything is covered in white. Why is no one wearing sunglasses?

Arctic Silence (by Jan Erik Waider)

Instagram: @northlandscapes Tumblr: @really-shit