HeyJaredOtherlands
Stories rooted in landscape — exploring culture, place and identity in remote regions through film & writing.
- Indexed issues, last 90 days
- 5
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- Sep 23, 2026
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- Jul 5, 2026
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An Invitation From the Otherlands (opens the original)
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A couple of years ago, I spent two weeks in Colorado with a good friend and collaborator . What emerged was the beginning of something we could sense but not yet name. Around that time, he wrote a philosophical piece which I have now decided to share. In some ways, it reads like an early articulation of what this work would eventually become: an initiation, and an invitation, into the Otherlands. Of different worlds, and different ways of seeing. From early in our childhoods, we are met with the
Racolta da Fain (opens the original)
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Midsummer. A charge is in the air, yet it is difficult to define. Recent weeks have been hot, far hotter than the locals consider normal. The glacier above Val Fex looks withered and frayed. What once stretched down the valley has now retreated, back towards the summit. For now, it holds. For the alpine farmers, the time of haymaking is the climax of the year. “Full gas”—as Roger has told me. When the time comes, strike. Like a hammer on an anvil. The Albula peaks are alight once again. Val Fex
Being With (opens the original)
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Half a year into the new project, Grischun, and it’s time to take a moment to bridge the gap between where we began and where we are now.For anyone curious in first-person stories from the Alps and beyond, these now live in Wandering & Wondering—my personal publication. Whereas Otherlands remains outwards facing towards the people and places in which the films are made, W&W deals with the internal interpretation of those encounters, and the questions that arise. Since I’ve been filming with farm
Sleeper Village (opens the original)
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There is a small village in a Swiss valley, not far from the borders of Italy and Austria. In winter, it stays in shaded, mountain-enshrouded darkness, until the sun appears from the south-facing peaks in mid-afternoon. Once in a while, a passing train clatters along steel tracks, buzzing with electricity in an otherwise static place. On Christmas, the mostly-empty farmhouses swell once again with people, only to remain vacant for the coming months. Some call it a sleeper village, for these stre
Lej Sgrischus (opens the original)
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Summer solstice has been and gone. The snow that buried the 3000 metre peaks above Val Fex has long since receded, faster than usual. The glacier at Piz Tremoggia—Roger’s favourite mountain—crumbles slowly, almost unrecognisably, but irrevocably. We meet at Furtschellas car park and take the cable car up the mountain. The same place we met many months ago in our search for soapstone on the alp. A group of elderly Swiss tourists stare at the strange spectacle of a British guy filming with a seemi
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