When evening comes, we all go out and water the yard. Around here, there is a lull in the wind when evening comes, and there is not a thing which stirs. Mother hates this evening calm. So she insists on watering the entire yard, to at least get some cool air, she says. You, kid, need to give to the earth more than what you get from it. Cause people are made from the earth, you see. The force of the water that spews out from the tap is a frightful thing, and in the blink of an eye will bore a hole in the earth, mow the lawn, and snap off treetops. What’s exhilarating is when you spray water upwind, and people get soaked to the core. Eventually we are thoroughly drenched, and feeling with satisfaction how the water has penetrated, say, ‘Now the yard has had enough,’ and go off to dry our clothes.
I am the only one who can’t get to sleep. I can clearly see the wind blustering about, notwithstanding the dark, low-hanging clouds. There were neither moon nor stars in sight, no sparkling bolts of lightning either. This sight which surprises you must be nothing more than an electrical phenomenon. And the evening breeze is cold and bad for you. Not only the things lying about on the ground, but even the large clouds blown about sparkled like some kind of mist, enveloping the entire land. I moved my lips but could not form words. In my surprise, my body fell into a stupor and my face went pale. For a while I stood still like this, but then said “That’s enough. Let’s go back.” Tears flooded my eyes.
1997│Acrylic, canvas│183.8×116.7×5cm(Vertical pair)