Part of Field Lines, presented with the Guardian

A workshop held twice — once at sunset, once at sunrise. Two thresholds in the day, two edges where light and water shift.

We collect rainwater, beforehand, bring together. We sit with what it carries. Rainwater is never pure. It has always been somewhere else first.

We read from Ursula K. Le Guin's "The Carrier Bag Theory of Fiction" — her case for the vessel, not the weapon, as the first human technology. A bag, a shell, a net. Something that holds.

We think about leaky vessels. Bodies that sweat, seep, breathe. Containers that don't pretend to be watertight.

We follow the planetary water cycle — rain, evaporation, condensation, return. Water doesn't stop moving between sessions. Neither do we.

This is a Hydrocene workshop. Thinking with water, not about it. Staying with the saturated, the porous, the planetary.