A perfect sky reflected and distorted in crumpled folds of water is an allegory for life. Nothing is perfect yet the world goes along regardless. Things eat, drink and continue existing without ever noticing these imperfections. Somehow, allowances are made, compromises undertaken and decisions chosen based on and including all the flaws. Somehow, it still seems perfect. Is it because as individuals we chose only to see what we want and need to see? Are we born with filters which allow us to observe and order things in a way that makes sense purely to us? Or are we simply built to accept imperfection and revel in all the ingenuity it forces us to employ in order to work around it? Most of the time, only those directly affected are even aware that anything is amiss... is the whole of life approximate in one way or another and is this what makes all our experiences so utterly unique?
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