Arts Incubator and Land Lab News

Sun on a Frozen Land Sun and ice. We stand here, on the edge of forever. Where does the light lead us? What will we find on the other side? That horizon... it's shifting, changing, like the world beneath our feet. This isn't just a view; it's our story, written in ice and light, waiting to be told.

Sun and ice. We stand here, on the edge of forever. Where does the light lead us? What will we find on the other side? That horizon... it's shifting, changing, like the world beneath our feet. This isn't just a view; it's our story, written in ice and light, waiting to be told.

Sun on a Frozen Land

Tony Eetak May 1, 2025

Sun and ice. We stand here, on the edge of forever. Where does the light lead us?

My Arctic Street Snow and street. Our path, right here in town. Where does it lead? What will it look like tomorrow? The light on the snow, it tells a story. A story of change, even here, where we live. This isn't just a street; it's our future, covered in white, waiting to be seen.

Snow and street. Our path, right here in town. Where does it lead? What will it look like tomorrow? The light on the snow, it tells a story. A story of change, even here, where we live. This isn't just a street; it's our future, covered in white, waiting to be seen.

My Arctic Street

Tony Eetak May 1, 2025

This road, it's our everyday path. We walk it, we drive it. It connects us.

Tread Marks on Thinning Ice Rubber and frost meet, right here. Where have we been? Where are we going? That horizon... it's softer now, the light uncertain. Each mark on this tire, a story of the land. But the land is changing, breathing differently. I see it, we all do. This isn't just a view; it's the ground shifting beneath us, captured in a moment.

Rubber and frost meet, right here. Where have we been? Where are we going? That horizon... it's softer now, the light uncertain. Each mark on this tire, a story of the land. But the land is changing, breathing differently. I see it, we all do. This isn't just a view; it's the ground shifting beneath us, captured in a moment.

Tread Marks on Thinning Ice

Tony Eetak May 1, 2025

Rubber and frost meet, right here. Where have we been? Where are we going? That horizon...

Barrel Horizon A metal drum, dusted and fading, frames the edge of land and light. The sun breaks clean across an ice-locked horizon, distant yet grounding. Industrial memory sits in the foreground, silent but loaded. This is the balance: between use and loss, sky and surface, heat and cold, stillness and what is coming next.

A metal drum, dusted and fading, frames the edge of land and light. The sun breaks clean across an ice-locked horizon, distant yet grounding. Industrial memory sits in the foreground, silent but loaded. This is the balance: between use and loss, sky and surface, heat and cold, stillness and what is coming next.

Barrel Horizon

Tony Eetak May 1, 2025

Oil heats our homes, but it also represents a cycle that’s melting the ground beneath us.

Edges of Ice Ice rises like fingers sculpted in a moment of thaw—sharp, delicate, reaching toward the low sun. In this blur of focus, what is foreground and what is memory? A crystallized tension sits between presence and erosion, the dirt and grains trapped inside as witness. Nothing here is still, though everything looks like it might be.

Ice rises like fingers sculpted in a moment of thaw—sharp, delicate, reaching toward the low sun. In this blur of focus, what is foreground and what is memory? A crystallized tension sits between presence and erosion, the dirt and grains trapped inside as witness. Nothing here is still, though everything looks like it might be.

Edges of Ice

Tony Eetak May 1, 2025

Ice rises like fingers sculpted in a moment of thaw—sharp, delicate, reaching toward the low sun. In...

Through My Eyes: An Arctic Story Even in the heart of our community, winter's presence is felt. The school stands as a center of learning, surrounded by the enduring snow.