Becoming Home
Nightfall in Skagaströnd, the Northwestern region of Iceland.
“Becoming Home” is a documentary photography project created during my NES artist residency in Iceland, from September to October 2021. I spent two months in the rural town called Skagaströnd, populated by only 400 people. Some had never left this town their whole lives, while some left only to return.
I documented four diverse individuals and their families to learn about why they chose to stay in a small rural town rather than a big city like Reykjavík, and what “home” means to them.
Aurora at Skagaströnd’s campsite.
The bedroom window at the artist's residency.
Magnús and Gógó
Magnús and Gógó were the first family I photographed. I stumbled upon them while they were planning what to do with their garden in preparation for the harsh winter.
Magnús and Gógó met during a marriage dance event when they were sixteen years old in Skagaströnd.
“Home is a part of who you are.” Magnús said. He and Gógó had stayed in Skagaströnd their whole lives.
Magnús was the mayor of Skagaströnd for 40 years. He has two sons and one daughter who live in Reykjavík and Skagaströnd.
“Home is a nest, embraced by the loved ones, a place to come together and to rest. When we are a home, it brings us security. The home is also a part of ourselves, a part of our identity. It's a place where people can find you, and you can find yourself. You have to decide who you are inside. This is the place to be that.”
Magnús and Gógó’s grandson joined us for a moment on his way home after school.
When Iceland enters its polar night season, Magnús makes wooden Santa Claus decorations to sell at the local farmer’s market.
Gógó would sew plush heart ornaments to be packaged along side Magnús’ Santa Claus carvings.
“Home is not the house itself but the things and people who you love. You can make a new home anywhere with them.”
Kristbjörg Dúfa
Dúfa took a walk by the ocean with her son, Alfreð. The pyramid house behind is where her family lives.
The fridge was full of magnets they brought back from travelling around the world.
Dúfa’s mum and her step father changing the lightbulb on a Sunday morning. They had church that day.
Arnrún and her friend made pancakes for the family. This was her best friend growing up, and she came back to surprise Arnrún the night before.
Dúfa was showing Alfreð a tiny shell when he couldn’t stop crying.
“Home is the safe space that I go to. I can walk to this nature, the ocean, all by myself. There is nothing else but facing myself here. I choose to stay because I have the power.” said Dúfa as she returned to her rural hometown Skagaströnd after living in Reykjavík for a while.
Dúfa’s sister, fourteen-year-old Arnrún, would help in taking care of Alfreð. It is common in Iceland to see even a seven-year-old child taking care of their younger siblings.
“I didn’t have a choice when I moved back because I needed help from my family for my kid. Being a single mom is really hard. It took me so much to overcome the obstacles. It’s about not running away. After you overcome them, you can make so much better memories together.”
Alfreð resting his head on grandma’s shoulder.
“Now I am choosing to stay because I have the power and the control of overcoming. I am grateful that I was forced to be back here and this was so necessary for me to become who I am.”
“This is a small town. Everyone knows everyone and there are a lot of rumors. If something happens, everyone will know in the next few days.” Dúfa told me, “It took me a lot of courage to come back here and restart my life when I first left to be a nanny in America to escape. But I have Alfreð now, I have to overcome. Being a single mother is hard, but I am proud to be who I am now.”
Eymundur
Eymundur’s long black hair drew my attention when he and I were shopping at the only grocery store in town. Eymundur is half Filipino and half Icelandic.
Eymundur’s family is of Christian faith. The kitchen wall is decorated with Icelandic patterned wooden utensils and The Last Supper.
Eymundur looking out of the window as if he was looking into the future, longing for something inside.
Daniela
I met Daniela while she was biking through the town in a red jacket. She moved from Miami to her husband Gunnar’s home in Skagaströnd to take over the family Airbnb business. Gunnar was Daniela’s tour guide during her first trip to Iceland.
The family had a really busy day. Gunnar baked pastries for the school parent meeting after some yard work in the morning. Daniela looked after the kids and cleaned up the Airbnb.
Taking care of two kids was hard work. After a chaotic day, the family finally sat down and invited me for dinner. It was cream potato soup and garlic bread, simple but delicious.
“I have two homes - one in Reykjavík and one in Skagaströnd. I moved back to Skagastrond when the pandemic started because I missed my family. Home is where my family is. ”
A pink jellyfish suspended in glass by the window. When I asked him why he liked this, he responded, “Because it’s pink.”
“The kitchen is the place where I spend the most time talking with my mother. We always chat. Good things and bad things. Everything happens in the kitchen.”
Eymundur’s mum welcomed us with pandan cake and tea.
“I want to move back to Reyjakavik. There’s a bigger LGBTQ community there, I feel welcomed and a part of my community. That’s the place I want to be. I feel the most of myself in Reykjavik. There are many open doors to what kind of person I could be. It’s a new place and an opportunity to grow as a person. ”
Eymundur told me he felt so free for the first time on this land, on these rocks, the place where he was born.
“Home is a place that’s deep inside
your heart. ”
Danielthor would sometimes get a little bit jealous when his younger brother was getting most of the attention.
Gunnar reminded me of Van Gogh when I saw the sunflower painting on the wall. He built this house and the Airbnb cabins from scratch.
“Home is my family and myself. Family is a part of home but it’s also the connection of growing into an individual.”
The kids were playing hide and seek behind the couch before dinner.
“I am a mother, but I am also myself. Home is where I feel peaceful, harmonious and joyful. If I take that, I can cultivate home anywhere.”
On my walk back to the residency after dinner, I stood in front of this house of warm light for a while. The night felt surreal but with a sense of freedom, and nostalgia. I think it’s time to go home.
