Lap pools

I used to swim a lot. I found the muffled sounds underwater womb like. The compression against my skin comforted my nervous system and my body and breath were amplified.

On sunny days, I glided through dense cathedral rays and crinkled patterns of sun light. Lap pools became both mythical and sacred places, where I found relief from land. I spent effortless hours pushing away from a known edge towards an unknown edge. I craved mindless repetition. In that simple distance of 25 meters, I became H.C. Anderson’s Sea King: both man and fish and the Little Mermaid: wanting to be human.

Early neglect and abuse left me experientially an unrelated being ; ‘Other’, not human, different than, contemptible, bottom feeder.

This triptych is in memory of water, myth and transformation.