I let the water run. While doing dishes. While brushing my teeth. While standing in the shower on those dark, cold early mornings. I turn the faucet on and off. On and off. There isn’t a lot of thought that goes into this movement. It’s part of a larger, sleepy, domesticated choreography, like putting keys in my pocket, pulling socks over my feet or opening the refrigerator door. I barely notice asking my hands to do the turning on and off. Yet it's nourishing me. It’s cleaning me, feeding me, hydrating me. These little actions I barely pay attention to are a large part of why I exist, why everything exists.
This month I’m choosing to focus. Every time I turn the faucet on, I’ll make a mark on a page. The water I use will be measured, logged and photographed to accompany stories of some of the more parched moments I’ve experienced throughout my travels.
Outside, ten yellow buckets catch rainfall, slowly replenishing the water supply I’ve too quickly depleted.
This project (I am calling it On-Off) was initially inspired by the Recycled Rain Project. I’m a featured artist for their 2015 show which will open on May 9th.
A dedicated webpage for On-Off is coming soon.
