they’re always with you
Water as a form of perceptual relation, not so much a substance but a thing whose identity is based on its relation to other things. I think this way about everything, need relation in order to prove myself.
Anhydrogyne, then, is granted form here in glass all over seemingly solid — to gloved gallery hands, to bare fingers, to a leaf falling, to the sideways rain — but glass that is liquid nonetheless.
I think of water as a verb. I think of it as something that one experiences in relation to other things, as opposed to in itself.
You try to imagine
That you could go into it
That you could be under it
That you could even just touch it
In lieu of visiting it, you place yourself
even closer to it.
— Ingress, Kate Morgan