When the tension of light on the surface of water is randomly broken, the water no longer looks like water.

The random patterns are more attractive to the human mind.

It’s because they’re worth figuring out. They can’t be. What can be achieved is a sense of beauty.

And beauty is a point of balance — just a different one than narrative or understanding. The solution is not about material and its designs.

Seeing the water is absolutely the wrong thing. In fact, seeing is the wrong thing.

Being present on earth is to be in body and mind together. In Western tradition, this is the end of art.

Here on the Columbia Plateau it is only its beginning.

It is a beautiful dance.

Even light breaks itself to it.

Everything completely open.

Everything moving across boundaries.

But remember: these images aren’t the goal.

They are what is broken and, being broken, creates balance. Even the wind  breaks it.

Even the water itself.

Even a grass blade.

Even the light …

… and the rain.

I could say “Welcome to your mind,” but that’s the wrong thing, so I’ll say “Welcome to your life.”

You can call them your thoughts, but they are, of course, only ducklings.

They have the capacity for flight.