What do I do at this juncture of land, memory, and water? I bump up against steel, consumption & blocked access to the actual water & land. The paradox of my existence resides here where land meets water because I come from a landless people. I have no answers. I simply show up to the place where the water meets the land. I stand at the bridge.
I become the bridge from the river to the memory of those that came before me.