DEEP WITHIN, THERE’S A CALLING TO RETURN TO THE PLACE WHICH, IN A WAY, MOTHERED ME INTO EXISTENCE.

Mountains, in their everlasting patience and abundance, are the oldest Mothers of this Earth. And so, like a loving child, I return to them time and again to connect with the sympathetic bond that intertwines me with their magnificence.

My brother died in the mountains; he was also listening deeply to the calling. He lived for the calling, searching for love, wisdom and adventure in the playfulness of the Winds, the clarity of the Waters, the truthfulness of the Fire, the embrace of the Earth. Like we all will be, he was called for the final embrace, to become part of the soil of the mountain that nourished him all his life.

Every relationship is an ongoing construction that never ceases, it’s woven of shared kinship, which finally gives us identity. My relationship with my brother didn’t end when his life did. It is an ongoing construction. I decided to keep nourishing it in the mountains, the place where he lived and died. I see him when I run downhill on a couloir, I hear him in the chill of the katabatic air, I feel him in all the wonders Mother Earth gifts us with. Without realizing it, I started to build my identity based on the ongoing relationship I have with my brother’s subtle presence in the mountains.

But something was missing, I started to hear the calling to go back. Go back to the place which set the stage for his sudden death. Go back to the idea of the adventure we were to share together but never got the chance to do so. So I went back to Bolivia, the place where I began to understand the meaning of pain and transformation that comes along with Death. I went back to honor my relationship with the mountains and with my brother, to celebrate his life through mine, to remember the warmth of the womb which carried us all into life. This film is a taste of that connection, of that remembrance, of the mosaic of emotions life in the mountains is about.

—Karina Carsolio