The ship is a vibrating shape, more or less. A complete standstill is never there. A link combining a fast and a fluid form is embodied in a ship, a body in movement. Wind and water caress or beat against the ship. Ship delves deep. Ship soars high, higgledy-piggledy, but not upside down, because then it becomes an absurdity of a condemned stagnation, clearly already on its last, short voyage. On the border of water and land, the view towards the ship is the most steadfast. It has the stability of earth as a carrier and the empty space is a stage for the ship.
There’s nothing between water and land that could distract from that streamlined elegance. The ship is completely stripped of superfluous frills, making the ship appear honest and unambiguous. In the image the water is a massive form against which the ship performs. The air contains a density which, weather permitting, seems even more empty than water, or even more invisible. During bad weather the air contrives to be the same as the sea and sometimes they touch each other in a melting embrace.
Water becomes air and air becomes water. The ship can move itself on either point in this field so that in this way a ship can easily appear to be an airship. The quay offers itself as stage for negotiation. It provides the edge of the hinterland. Load or discharge, fact or fiction, dream or deed, everything has to be measured, volume and weight deciding the price.
The footboard can be jetty or pier, as a gangplank it is also fine, one foot must at least fit on it, then one follows after the other. The treads make a step from a plank, lightly slanting onto the ship. When the gangplank is retracted, there comes a short moment left before that little jump. One can see this especially with the ferries on the Bosporus or the Canal Grande. The ferries are ships to board in a hurry, even when they sail all the time.
Sometimes someone standing by the sea looks into the distance. This is not the place to turn back, or just to return home. These binoculars don’t want to be here, but to explore elsewhere. They want to push the boat from the edge of the lake, to make it smaller to the eye. The pond in the garden is big enough to become a lake. Seeing that, this launching push causes a movement before being taken over by the wind, the reward for an act of desire.
Want to know behind the last line the next one and yet another one again.
Want with the ploughing forward of the ship to decide a precise moment.
Want to run after it, whether out of pleasure or even despair.
Want only to emphasize the looking, but don’t want to know where.
Want to unmask and kill time.
Want to see the passing of ships as panels, that brief moment in competition.
Want to wait for the third ship at the right spot, in relation to two earlier ships, the air and the sea, that’s when heaven, time and place coincide.
Want to see the mist hamper and refine the view, for this enough light must pass through, the image then becomes brilliant.