In a glass, in a puddle, on the dog.
In the attic, in the sink,
on my original-notarized-birth certificate.
In a storm-creek, in a rain-barrel, in the iPod.
Ice, rain, tears.
Water Rhymes, 26x26x1.5
Sure, I started out thinking about the usuals--streams, ponds, pools, oceans--but as great design would have it, the element isn’t containable. It overflows and recedes, it mixes and mingles, it separates and dilutes; its evaporation unifies and intensifies. It doesn’t look like itself. It looks like everything. Water Rhymes.