The Weight of Water
The tide does not negotiate. It arrives with a heavy, rhythmic indifference, carving the stone until the stone forgets its own shape. We spend our lives trying to leave a mark, to be the rock that stands against the grey expanse, yet the water is the only thing that remains constant. It is a slow erasure. There is a particular kind of loneliness in watching the sea work. It does not hate the shore; it simply does not know it is there. We are all being smoothed down by the things we cannot control, losing our sharp edges, becoming something rounder, quieter, and finally, indistinguishable from the sand. Does the rock feel the relief of being worn away, or is it merely waiting for the next wave to finish the task?
Dariusz Stec has captured this tension in his image titled Rocks. It is a study of what happens when the permanent meets the passing. How do you hold onto your own shape when the world is constantly moving?
