The place where I was living for last two years is a plateau. Its northeastern border is marked by ice-covered volcanoes, western one by the canyon formed in a place where two tectonic plates,: the Euarasian and the North-American collide with each other. The third border is outlined by the Atlantic Ocean. Through the edge of the plateau runs a historical trail called Asavegur, nowadays overgrown and fallen into disuse not in use anymore, that leads, simply put, from the North to the South. In the Middle Ages its final stop was the city of Eyrabakki. In fact, it was a culmination of several roads that surrounded the glaciers in order to avoid crossing the glacial rivers. The place I lived in is located almost exactly on the trail. Having a natural, vigilant and careful contact with it have allowed me to create a photographic essay, a portrait of abandoned road that consists of touching volcanoes’ slopes, sneaking through the valleys and slowly passing through the plateaus, memories that hold a great significance to me. Another matter of the story is Icelanders’ everyday life, so prosaic, usual, nature-close and still under the influence of such phenomena as storms, earthquakes and volcanic activity. I would like to present how modern Iceland is not so different from the 9th century when it started to be colonialized. It was such a luck to be a part of this wild reality, majestic, untouched by the architecture and human’ activity. In my artistic practice I’m using a creative process as a medium of creation, while working with various techniques, often by experimenting with materials and tools, by changing their already known, proper destiny. A YEAR ALONG THE ABANDONED ROAD started in the shortest day of the year, December 22, and was continued throughout the year. The title is borrowed from Morten Skallerund’s movie, which is a portrait of the village named Borfjord in northern Norway, place as magical and abandoned as the one I lived in.