bits of porcelain

in her design of a muddy extraction process, she demanded a carving from the tumultuous movements, generating earthen curves from the storied alluvium. she used the pulley to whisk clumps of compacted dried silts and deposit them back within their sludgy origins. the swing lagged behind the vessel and as it deviated amongst the rushing torrents, the transforming geometries of sediment chiseled clay forms of submersion. hoisting the sculptures in order to immerse herself within the spaces they supplied, the girl too became a part of this mire. then, the River was no longer moving swiftly below her, she was amongst the muddy waters, she felt the currents swirling about her, was embedded in their golden energies and consumed by their strength. the mud billowed around her and paused, momentarily suspended in midair before softly tinkering into the bits of porcelain quivering below.

in every effort, she heard the saturated silence of the waterscape; despite intervention, it had only echoes of the utterances she desired. she heard the River as it broke against each draconian obstruction and when it skirted the flank of each passing galley; she heard the buoyant tides lapping the veneer of pitted rock, churning the gleaming wheels of reminiscent steamers, and gently seeping through the strands of tidal marshes. the sagacious voice in this animate and effervescent landscape had adjusted through time, as had it form, and it remembered. she would arouse these tactile places shrouded by the depths of this River - for beneath the surface, tucked in each wing dam of the waterscape, there was movement.