After heavy rain or rapid snowmelt, Page Brook roars. Whitewater rushes and rages. It draws me close. I stare at pulsating shapes and swirls and churns.
Most of the time, Page Brook’s song is a whisper. Dappled light twinkles as thin layers of water glide over smooth, flat shale, striking distinct, delicate, arrhythmic tones. This is when I feel Page Brook’s gentle embrace, as though I’m hovering just above the water and gliding upstream to the revelation, the answer.
The Page Brook project is a collective portrait of my favorite stream: details and vistas, abstract and representational, instants in time and accumulations of time, serene and sublime.
