Me…Russia, 2017. It’s the last Saturday of the year, and my house is very quiet, which makes it easier for the memories to come back. Here’s a section from my Russia diary for anyone feeling homesick, jarred by change, or unsure just what the hell to do next. It’s okay to be scared sometimes. Dear…
Here is Meet the North’s first story for National Geographic. The Arctic may be cold, vast and beautiful, but it’s also home to millions of people. Take a journey through stories of modern Arctic culture – told one person at a time. Explore life in four Arctic nations through Jenny’s words and Eric’s photos.
It has been a long time since I have been at home, long enough to wonder what home really means. I know it means love, comfort, and familiarity, but if I include beauty, diversity, and a way to find newness in every day, then perhaps Antarctica has become–in some tiny way–part of my home. Photo…
Office time can happen anywhere. And hey, at least here I can do some ironing. Mostly, I tell you about the action, sometimes the emotion, rarely the straight-up behind-the-scenes, office-style elbow grease to make it all happen. I’ve just spent an hour writing about that stuff, and it’s just too boring to share, so I’ll…
Making beauty. Taking whatever you have to work with–whatever your life gives you–be it the memory of a polar bear or a pile of worn out tires, and getting to work. Making our houses into homes. If they can do it out here, in the villages of Russia’s Far East, then we can do it…
I was pretty homesick by the time we got back to the apartment. It was Thanksgiving back home, and my mind kept traveling around the world to my friends and family in Canada. I gave myself a few minutes to sulk (not many, I promise), then put on some music, unpacked our bag of groceries,…
It’s Thanksgiving in Canada today, and I’m really far away from home, so here’s a toast to Eric Guth, my companion for Thanksgiving: My team mate and dear friend doing what he does: making photographs and sharing them every way he can. The process and the moment. Eric’s cameras show up in odd places. In the…
Russian. Learning this new language feels like searching for a shoreline through the fog. When shapes begin to emerge, they come slowly and all at once. The meaning is fuzzy, but I’m on the approach. More and more often, I have small and exhilarating moments of clarity. (His dog! He’s talking about his dog!) Sitting…
Breakfast on the tundra = boiled reindeer with salt, black tea with sugar, broth, and the ever present (ever delicious) fried bannock (кавкав). Food can always be a point of connection, no matter how deep the divide. So remember dear travelers: eat what you are given and sleep where you are told. There ain’t no…
We’ve only been in town an hour when someone knocks on the door. It’s the local English teacher, who is the last messenger in a long line of connections that began back in Canada. “The dancing will begin in an hour,” she says. When we arrive, women and girls are pulling on their tunics while…