


Ancient lava flows and fissures unfold like a geological manuscript, carrying fragments of Hawai‘i’s mo‘olelo and speaking to cycles of resilience, destruction and renewal. More than topographical studies, Gleim’s images operate as visual meditations—quiet, attentive works that honour the spirit of the ‘āina and invite viewers into a slower, more reflective way of seeing.

Leslie Gleim: Photographed from a helicopter, Life of the Land is a series of images made through acts of attentiveness—a bird’s-eye meditation on light, time, form, and elemental memory. Photographed from above Hawai‘i Island, I found a stillness that allowed me to listen more deeply, to witness the ancient conversation between earth and sky, and to photograph not only what I saw, but what I felt.
Photographed from a helicopter, Life of the Land is a series of images made through acts of attentiveness—a bird’s-eye meditation on light, time, form, and elemental memory.

These photographs reveal ancient lava flows, cones, and fissures that etch themselves across the terrain like pages torn from a geological journal spanning millennia. Each formation offers a fragment of Hawai‘i’s mo‘olelo—a story of resilience, adaptation, and ongoing transformation.

More than records of geological features, these images are windows into the soul of the ‘āina (land), revealing the timeless forces that have shaped and reshaped it. I see each photograph as a word or sentence in a living manuscript, one that offers both historical and present-day insight into the cycles of destruction and renewal that continue to birth these islands from within.

This process of photographing from above has become a form of quiet dialogue—a way of seeing slowly and listening deeply. In this suspended stillness, each image becomes a quiet offering, a visual poem that honours the enduring breath of the land and invites a silent conversation with its spirit.


Ancient lava flows and fissures unfold like a geological manuscript, carrying fragments of Hawai‘i’s mo‘olelo and speaking to cycles of resilience, destruction and renewal. More than topographical studies, Gleim’s images operate as visual meditations—quiet, attentive works that honour the spirit of the ‘āina and invite viewers into a slower, more reflective way of seeing.

Leslie Gleim: Photographed from a helicopter, Life of the Land is a series of images made through acts of attentiveness—a bird’s-eye meditation on light, time, form, and elemental memory. Photographed from above Hawai‘i Island, I found a stillness that allowed me to listen more deeply, to witness the ancient conversation between earth and sky, and to photograph not only what I saw, but what I felt.
Photographed from a helicopter, Life of the Land is a series of images made through acts of attentiveness—a bird’s-eye meditation on light, time, form, and elemental memory.

These photographs reveal ancient lava flows, cones, and fissures that etch themselves across the terrain like pages torn from a geological journal spanning millennia. Each formation offers a fragment of Hawai‘i’s mo‘olelo—a story of resilience, adaptation, and ongoing transformation.

More than records of geological features, these images are windows into the soul of the ‘āina (land), revealing the timeless forces that have shaped and reshaped it. I see each photograph as a word or sentence in a living manuscript, one that offers both historical and present-day insight into the cycles of destruction and renewal that continue to birth these islands from within.

This process of photographing from above has become a form of quiet dialogue—a way of seeing slowly and listening deeply. In this suspended stillness, each image becomes a quiet offering, a visual poem that honours the enduring breath of the land and invites a silent conversation with its spirit.


Ancient lava flows and fissures unfold like a geological manuscript, carrying fragments of Hawai‘i’s mo‘olelo and speaking to cycles of resilience, destruction and renewal. More than topographical studies, Gleim’s images operate as visual meditations—quiet, attentive works that honour the spirit of the ‘āina and invite viewers into a slower, more reflective way of seeing.

Leslie Gleim: Photographed from a helicopter, Life of the Land is a series of images made through acts of attentiveness—a bird’s-eye meditation on light, time, form, and elemental memory. Photographed from above Hawai‘i Island, I found a stillness that allowed me to listen more deeply, to witness the ancient conversation between earth and sky, and to photograph not only what I saw, but what I felt.
Photographed from a helicopter, Life of the Land is a series of images made through acts of attentiveness—a bird’s-eye meditation on light, time, form, and elemental memory.

These photographs reveal ancient lava flows, cones, and fissures that etch themselves across the terrain like pages torn from a geological journal spanning millennia. Each formation offers a fragment of Hawai‘i’s mo‘olelo—a story of resilience, adaptation, and ongoing transformation.

More than records of geological features, these images are windows into the soul of the ‘āina (land), revealing the timeless forces that have shaped and reshaped it. I see each photograph as a word or sentence in a living manuscript, one that offers both historical and present-day insight into the cycles of destruction and renewal that continue to birth these islands from within.

This process of photographing from above has become a form of quiet dialogue—a way of seeing slowly and listening deeply. In this suspended stillness, each image becomes a quiet offering, a visual poem that honours the enduring breath of the land and invites a silent conversation with its spirit.