My name is Stefan Linnerhag.
This is my life, a Life Shaped by Time
My relationship with photography began quietly — but only after movement.
Before still images, there was motion.
In freefall, I worked with film. Filming skydivers taught me to read light, movement, weather, and timing with absolute presence.
In the air, there is no room for distraction — only awareness, trust, and respect.
That way of seeing stayed with me.
Later, as a young adult, I was allowed to borrow my mother’s camera — a Chinon CE-4.
I didn’t know it then, but that small gesture planted something lasting. A way of pausing. A way of listening.
When I later lived in the Swedish mountain world, still photography found its place. I began photographing skiers, nature, and details — movement framed by silence, speed held inside stillness.
It was there that photography became more than technique.
It became a language. My language.
And here, the journey truly began.
Over time, this path allowed me to divide my life between working for others and building something of my own. Half employment, half independence, always driven by the same inner compass.
During and after this time, I lived among winds and waves, cliffs and clouds.
Skydiving, navigating cold northern seas as skipper on RIB boats in Lofoten, northern Norway in all seasons and weathers, climbing rock faces, crawling through deep caves. Always moving, always observing.
And eventually, learning to stop.
I’ve learned as much from movement as from stillness.
From standing on summits and crossing oceans, to pausing in silence and noticing the smallest detail.
Each moment, large or small, taught me the same lesson: the key is not speed, but presence. And above all, respect for the endless beauty of nature.
Through my work, I’ve met and collaborated with many extraordinary people.
Those encounters, together with the silence and strength of nature, form the foundation of the insight I carry: that connection, human and natural, is what gives life meaning.
To evolution’s quiet intelligence.
To the mystery of how everything has come to be.
The images you see here are created because something within me said: this matters.
They are tied to instinct, to patience, to reverence for the natural world and its fragile beauty.
For me, time is not an enemy to conquer, but a companion — our friend, and the creator behind the beauty of this universe.
Everything we are, and everything we see, belongs to the same story.
The atoms that shape mountains, oceans, forests, birds — and ourselves — have always been here.
They do not disappear.
They change form, weaving us into an endless continuity.
Somewhere along the way, I wonder if we have forgotten this.
In our pursuit of progress, we rush past one another, past beauty, past meaning, past the presence of nature itself.
We trade presence for productivity, depth for efficiency, often at the expense of our remarkable world.
And in doing so, we risk losing the most human parts of ourselves: kindness and trust.
Perhaps the humility found in what time has created in nature can remind us how extraordinary life truly is.
Created by Time exists as a quiet reminder.
A place to slow down. To look closer.
To remember that we, too, are created by time.
The images you see here are created because something within me said: this matters.
Through my work, I’ve met and collaborated with many extraordinary people.
