We live to the sound of water, quiet water, moving, not much.

The world was full and noisy and now it is so quiet. We have come here to hide and haven, away from streets of grey and black and steel, whirling colours, particulate vision: the Brownian motion of small various things, from the mosaic world of normal life and an invisible pathogen that dusts it, to this place where I can fill my eye line with only a few things.