Water never stops moving.
It rises and falls and rises again without drama, without deciding that the falling part means something is wrong. We watch water do this our whole lives and we still cannot quite apply it to ourselves.
When the low part comes we call it failure. We fight it. We try to find the stable ground that was never actually there.

I made this piece in a low curve of my own, in the particular disorientation of a season that did not go the way I had planned, sitting with the hard question of whether I was sinking or just on my way back up. Creating inside that uncertainty was a practice, a way of staying in conversation with myself when everything else felt suspended.

Surrender is not the same as giving up. It is giving in to the rhythm that was already there before you started trying to control it. The wave does not ask your permission. It only asks whether you are willing to be carried, and how long you plan to spend fighting the direction it is already going.