„The offence, physically directed against the waters, indemnifies the reaction of the violent water nevertheless; […] the offence ranges from lashing to simple harassment. The flap of a fingernail, the lightest speckle can arouse the fury of the water.” (Gaston Bachelard)
Every time, an element feels disturbed, its fury becomes universal: the tempest blares, lightning explodes, hail crackles, water floods the soil. Water, element more femine and uniform than fire. Water, most constant element which typifies itself trough the most secret, simplest, most simplifying human forces. With its bitter-fresh taste, it forces its space into the human drama. The structure of the human being incorporates materials of all consistencies, which it later despises. The eroticism of hate, of love, defines the body in its cruel existence. Blustering the body rebels, chains around his feet, against the invincible nature. Crashing against our body, water spreads in every groove and levels us in our pretensions. The crucial liquid, frozen or boiling, strikes the body and jerks us into mutual dependency. We play with the volatile force, it plays with us. Violence, ferocity attacks when one crosses the borderline, provoking the invincible power. The crash of flesh and wave culminates in a battle that cannot be won. One wrestles with the other, alone this battle is lost from its beginning. We exercise violence, the indispensable vein turns into the enemy of human breath. Misdealing this most curious, most dangerous, nevertheless deserving victory, we recognize the triple syntax of life, death and water. Life and death are the most desperate, agony is infinite.
