‘What do you want to be when you grow up?’
‘A mermaid.’
***
Truth is, my answer’s still the same. I used to think it would be wonderful to be a mermaid. I’d be beautiful (naturally), thin (without question), have radiant hair (what’s a mermaid without her hair?) and, of course, a dashing, gill pausingly handsome merman would want to make me his queen (did I mention I was a mermaid princess?)
While I’m still holding out hope that one day my feet will transform into a beautiful, glistening tail, and my features into those that steal people’s breath, over my human years I’ve still been able to enjoy one part of mermaid life; water.
Perhaps it’s because swimming was the one sport I excelled at. Perhaps it’s because I like the noise pebbles make when they plop into a pond. Or perhaps it’s because water makes me calm, centred, whole. But water is one of the most spectacular things we have the pleasure of taking for granted. The shower is my refuse, a riverbank my haven.
There is something unknown in the way billions of separate water droplets move as one, the whole tricking us into thinking that they belong together. I imagine myself as one of those drops, clinging to others I don’t want to let go of, pushing and sliding away from the ones I do. With incredulous hope I make my own way to the sea, the mass doesn’t carry me, and the eyes of a stranger notice my individual sparkle, even when I reach the vast ocean.
When I photograph water, I think of the drops. Sometimes I think of the whole, of its purpose on Earth and, its beauty. With this undisputed love, photos were bound to follow. So this is dedicated to Water, out of respect.
