Complacency (thoughts on some water)

I place a glass of water on the floor in a large room
It sits unassumingly on the ground in the large room
On a soft ground in fact, for the uneven floor was covered by a pale white carpet
Most would assume the glass is a cup, but it could be a bowl, or a little bit of both, or maybe it does not matter
It is a tiny form of roundness that sits perfectly in the curvatures of both your hands when you cup them together
The bowl is full
So full that it appears empty
But only because it is too full that it is impossible to see that imaginary line where the water ends Unless the bowl quivers
But why would it quiver?
We, as clever as we are, assume that it could not quiver on its own
But what if it could?
What if the room through its thin walls, thin floors, radiating light, air and sound allowed for the quivering of the bowl?
Then a tiny drip of water may spill
But would we have been too complacent to notice it?

Reflections, continued (thoughts on some water)

...a week on
And I still did not see the bowl quiver
Does it mean it did not?
But I know for a fact that the water did spill
Only through the wetness of the carpet

So what do I know, really?

An excerpt from an essay by the artist titled ‘what we cannot see is real’, 2018
For the full essay in PDF, drop a request to genevieveandsuch@gmail.com.