To get an image or a feeling of what it would look like to find an alien structure in this landscape, blocking the view, I brought with me a big black box up all the six mountains that was part of the building site. The black box is a simple but distinctly artificial element which stands in stark contrast to the nature of these sites. This element could be seen as an exaggeration of the wind-turbine/the man made in this context mirroring man's ever ceasing encroachment into the natural world. This resulted in a photoseries of six images, possibly some of the last photos taken from these mountains before they got turned into industry-parks.

These new wind-parks was not only going to ruin and scar the mountains forever, but is also a big threat to indigenous people living in the area and their reindeer-herding culture. What happens if memories, or even worse, a culture, disappears? Sometimes it feels like only once something is gone do we have the foresight to preserve it, at which point it is put in a museum displaybox, and we treasure it. And at which point it is too late. After several months carrying this black box up all these mountains, I burnt it, now the only remains of the memories from these mountains the black box had been to, lives in a jar of ashes.