In the barren grass of Ikateq stands a luxury car, or rather, what is left of it. The shiny vehicle that once symbolised comfort and progress is now little more than a weathered carcass. The glass is broken, the paint peeled off, and rust has taken hold of the metal frame.
The surroundings reinforce the feeling of desolation: the barren grass gently waves in the wind, as if trying to slowly hide the car in nature. The mountains in the background look on impassively, indifferent to the human traces slowly fading away.
This car tells a story of contradictions. Once a sign of luxury, a product of modern technology, it is now a monument of decay, a silent reminder of how time swallows everything up. The sculpture raises questions: How did this car end up here, in this remote Arctic landscape? Who drove it, and what brought them to this desolate place?
Although the car has lost its original luster, it now exudes a different beauty. Its weathered lines and rusty textures form a work of art of decay, a silent symphony of colour and form that invites reflection on impermanence and the power of nature.
My name is Gerry van Roosmalen, photographer and author with a passion for images and stories that touch. After years in the corporate world, I followed my heart and chose photography in 2002. I completed the Fotovakschool in Apeldoorn, specialising in portrait and reportage photography.
Documentary and landscape..
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