Powerful, the mass of water is rushing past me, a white blueish foaming torrent. Confined between the towering stone walls in the gorge, the river here has acquired a relentless quality, thrusting forward unstoppable.
Making sure that I stand on firm ground, I observe it. Falling into the deep river here, one would be lost, immediately being taken into the depths by the strong fraying currents. Here a man’s power matters little. Continue reading The natural flowform
Swish, swoosh, swish, swoosh, in a rhythmic pattern, the water swings to and fro in the vessel, a “flowform”, originally conceived by the British anthroposophist John Wilkes (1930-2011) in 1970 and since then developed into many shapes.
The incoming water flow, and the curved heart-shaped walls create the right conditions for a rhythmic flow to spontaneously emerge, to self-organize – a cooperative behaviour, which springs out naturally, effortlessly, from the conditions. The water molecules dance together. From vessel to vessel the dance continues, until the water reaches the pond below. Standing by the stair of flowforms, listening to the pulsating sound, it is as if it radiates tranquillity – a wild brook carved in stone. Continue reading Water’s pulse
The jet of water ejects out of the nozzle in a continuous, steady flow. Directing my eyes towards the opening, there is not a trace of pulsation.
Yet just slightly above, the dance has begun. As the upward movement is gradually lost, the water jet starts to twist and bend, like a rubber band being pushed.
Then it turns around and sweeps down, now on this side, now on that, now hitting the up going flow and, for a moment, almost extinguishing it, and then it moves on again, unpredictable. Never at rest, oscillating, yet not repeating itself – its aperiodic undulations never reveal what is next to come. Continue reading The water jet dances