Floating through, on paper boats and bells, water carries us like sound. Fold once, twice, third time, wave on wave, fold under fold, currents tumbling below. You move and nothing separates, I move and I make sound. Each beat a distance, Each wave continuous, indefinite. A distance in water seems much less solid. Whispers carry through, sounds echo. Bells in my mind, water on my skin. Bells in my mind, water on my skin. (Meditation on friendships and distance; shot on s8mm, transferred to 16mm for projection)