I don’t feel the water anymore

As sweat drips

Down my back

It is relentless

It does not care

Who I am

And that is why

It pushes and pulls

My legs

My feet

Do I swim or dance?


With joy or anger

As I am



Crumbled, tumbled




Down we go.

The maelstrom is a natural disaster. A whirlpool in the ocean, which pulls every object, human or creature of the sea, down to the bottom. It maintains its existence through constant movement; swirling and relentlessly moving water, spiraling down into the sea. Objects and creatures caught by its overwhelming power, shift in appearance; growing longer legs, or becoming estranged images to human perception, while shaping and shifting in form. Randomly, and outside of human logic and context, placed next to each other, they descend more and more down into the water. Barely a fraction of what we are familiar with stays, thereby creating room for something new to develop. Something beautiful, yet slightly scary.