Water is a powerful force, both life-giving and destructive. It is salvific and joyful but terrifying in depth. It bends light, erodes the hardest rock and harbors otherworldly domains. Its symbolic association with the female gender strikes my pre-verbal emotional core.
I live by a clear river that has nourished human communities for more than 11,000 years. Photographing its torpid surface at night reveals its womb-like role in images that resemble sonograms. The neglect of this river — by tourists who leave trash in it, by residents who dump harmful waste into storm drains, and by an ever-expanding metropolitan population that won't reduce its water consumption — pains me. This woman is adored for her beauty and comforting presence, but abused by hapless lovers. These images speak to the delicacy, potential and essentiality we take for granted.