To explore is to enter the school of slowness — to create the space and time needed for encounter, and to let our expectations dissolve so we can truly receive what is offered to us. The same applies to a landscape, a river, or a spring: it is not we who tame them, but they who gently tame us.

To tame implies a relationship of control on our part, which rarely leads to harmony. To let ourselves be tamed, on the other hand, requires a kind of surrender — a letting go, the essential condition for dancing together and allowing magic to unfold.

When the Chaudfontaine exhibition centre contacted me about a show for late 2024, it seemed obvious that I could not present images from elsewhere — not in a city that has been synonymous with water for centuries. So I proposed to meet the waters of Chaudfontaine themselves.

The few images shown here are the result of slow winter explorations along one of the streams that sing through the nearby woods — moments of exceptional quality.

Although December’s light is faint, it is enough to shape the relief and nuance of these ceaseless movements. Once again, thank you, life, for this gift.