Haarlem Periodical
Haarlem Artspace Virtual Residency 4
Anna Mawby
The first time I entered the stream it was with great caution.
Stepping into the unknown and being unsure of what could happen.
From the bank it was hard to judge the depth or the speed of the water.
The uneven bank made for a slippery entrance, and once in I tentatively moved upstream, cautious with every step.
At the edge of the stream my feet can sink into the ground, so I’ve learned to stay in the middle where the firmer stones are.
I now know where the deep bits are, so the frequency of filling my wellies with water has decreased.
The knowing is part memory, and part understanding. It’s becoming familiar and welcoming. I am drawn to going back in again and again, and I feel the urge to be more connected to it.
I’m starting to dream about the movement of the water. The rapid choppy water over the shallow stones, the calm patches where the stream is wider and deeper, the way the sound of the water changes as my feet alter the flow of the water.
It felt unfamiliar again, without my wellies and waterproofs.
As I stepped in I braced myself for the cold. The water flowed around my feet and I could feel the pain of the coldness growing stronger until it was almost unbearable. I did not think I would be able to stay in long so I started to walk up stream.
The stream felt lower, I wondered if it felt different because I was not in wellies, but I’m pretty sure it was lower.
I walked back and forth for a while, feeling the water lap around my legs. My feet felt heavier in the water, without the buoyancy of my wellies, they stayed firmer to the ground.
As I walked the pain started to ease, and I knew I would be able to stay in the water for longer.
I began to question why I was going to sit in the water, not because it was going to be cold, but because it was so shallow it felt a little foolish.
I knelt down in a fast flowing part of the stream, forcing the water to rush around me. There was a sharp pain in my knees, either from the cold or from the hard stones, so I only stayed there for a few minutes.
The calm deeper water was more inviting, I sat down with the water up to my waist. I could see the small waterfall from where I sat. I found it hard to stay in the stillness so I moved towards the energy of the waterfall.
The fast flow of the water was really energising, I stood with it pouring around my legs, the movement of the water seemed to offset the coldness.
The channel towards the waterfall is smooth and fast flowing. It has a pace and determination in its flow. There are no rocks or leaves, just an even slope that it gushes down.
I sat down and felt the rush as it rushed by.
And then I lay back.
I went back to the place where I had lay.
Nothing remains in this stretch of the stream. There are no leaves or pebbles or debris, the water takes everything with it.
I hadn’t intended to lie down the first time, the energy of the water was exciting and it was spontaneous. The impulsive moment was brief, my body tensed as the cold water poured around my head. I gasped as the intensity of the flow and the cold rushed at me. Within seconds it felt like a band was squeezing my head, my brain felt like it was freezing and I had to sit up.
Knowing I was going to lie in the water was quite different.
Doing it again felt less and less like a good idea. The air was cooler as I walked towards the stream.
Why was I doing this?
Every step I took I was having to counteract my impulse to turn back.
I was telling myself that I was cold already and I was not in the water yet.
Yet.
That last word.
I knew I was going to do it.
I entered at the furthest accessible point and walked upstream, allowing my legs to get used to the temperature.
I found my place and sat down.
I didn’t want to count myself down and plunge in.
I let the water run around my sides as I steadied my breathing.
I waited until I felt a wave of calmness and then I slowly lay back.
I felt the water flow onto my back, my shoulders, my neck, all the way to my forehead.
There was no gasp this time.
I let my shoulders drop and my head tip back.
I felt the intensity of the water.
The rushing sound pooled in my ears.
The pressure of the flow pushed against my head.
Then the coldness.
The coldness.
The unbearable coldness.
