Acacia Johnson is a photographer and writer from Alaska, focused on human relationships to wilderness. A graduate of the Rhode Island School of Design, Acacia received a Fulbright grant to Canada in 2014, to overwinter on Baffin Island . Since...
Focus:Photographer, Photojournalist, Editor, Writer, Travel, Video Editor, Environment
Covering:Europe,USA & Canada
Skills:Translator, Digital Printing, Photo Assisting, Color Correction, Film Scanning, Adobe Photoshop, Adobe InDesign, Book Layout/Design, Photo Editing, Black & White Printing, Web Design, Video Editing
Self-quarantine self-portrait with jet lag. As photographers and wilderness guides who travel for work, my partner and I had never spent more than two consecutive weeks in our apartment before the COVID-19 pandemic.
Spending time in nature has been the greatest source of calm during self-isolation. This forest had recently been ravaged by a storm, and despite damage, most of the trees remained standing - as they have since before we were born, and as they likely will after we are gone.
On an evening walk during self-quarantine, my partner and I discovered this old boat stranded on top of the highest hill in our neighborhood. I thought the boat prompted some relevant questions: how did we get here? How do we get back? But also: what can we see from up here that we couldn't see when things were normal?
Eye formations in neighborhood birch trees during daily walks in quarantine. As much of the world as we knew it is essentially on hold, I think it's a valuable time to be thinking about how we can reestablish a more sustainable relationship with nature. What will we do differently when this is over? What can we live without, once we get used to it?
Acacia Johnson (@acacia.johnson) is a photographer and writer from Alaska, currently quarantined in Öland, Sweden.
After a month and a half of quarantine, spring in Sweden has burst into full bloom – and coming from Alaska, I've never seen this many flowers in all my life. It seems as the entire landscape is opening its arms to welcome return of warmer weather, reminding me that the earth, regardless of what's happening on a human scale, both perseveres and expresses joy.
This is an ongoing collection of images from an undetermined period of self-isolation near Gothenburg, Sweden, during the 2020 COVID-19 pandemic. Making photographs is a way to actively seek out the beauty and magic in the everyday during a time of great uncertainty.