My sister Natalie and her Imogen. "When I take her down to the water’s edge, when I hold her tiny foot in the cold, and clear, when I stand in it and splash for her entertainment, all the waters from all these histories collide. From the puddle of amniotic fluid that soaked my toes in the hospital to the puddles I couldn’t hop over while pregnant, from the laboring hallucinations and flashbacks to the contractions like waves, from the obsidian pools of her eyes just opening to her searching, piercing expressions, all water flows to the lowest point. Imogen’s eyes dig into me, hollowing and filling me. Her eyes, like whetstones on which I must drag my meanings and hone my understanding, ask and ask and ask. Water always flows to the deepest place." –Natalie. Shot on 120 film.