Water holds two worlds at once, the surface we name and the depths we feel before language arrives. “At the Threshold” lingers in that interval, where light, movement and reflection dissolve the boundary between what we see and what sees us back. These images are not abstractions of water but encounters with perception itself, caught just before recognition settles in.
The Sky Beneath
The surface catches sunlight and scatters it into a galaxy of stars, and somewhere in between I lose track of which way I am looking.
Cup of Joy
A ray of light, gone almost before it arrives, fills the cup with something I can only call joy.
Into Light
I assumed the surface was smooth. The water, looked at long enough, gave up its texture.
Dreamweaver
Warm light traces arcs across the water that could be paths, could be dreams. I stop trying to tell the difference.
Interbeing
I cannot find where one thing ends.
Vellum
Hold still long enough and the water shows you what the leaf already knew. The same branching, repeated everywhere.