i got totally soaked on my bike coming back from celta! i biked through puddles, tires sputtering droplets. the way they shoot water up into the air would be beautiful to map if one drew the lines the droplets followed, i wonder how they'd compare to the axels or if it's got something to do with centrifugal force. at any rate, i'm sure i got soaked with exquisite, geometric precision.
it's funny how the water marks you and then disappears into you. it isn't like being on fire, screaming new colors, you just turn gray. water turns everything gray. by the west side highway a bus-turned-frothing-ship leveled a wave at me that i saw coming 30 feet away. it's really a fine thing to feel a wave on hard ground because you can better appreciate it. sloshing around in the muck of sand and retreating water is so destabilizing that you can't feel the beauty of the shape. but when you're on a bike, stable, you get not slop and whoosh but the visceral excellence of those japanese etchings.
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