The tides are dynamic in the waterway of Breakfast Creek drawing and receding with the moon’s orbit. The swelling tide flows onto footpaths, lifting boats with their reflections to the level of road traffic bringing vibrant bodily sensations with it.
The tides at this time of year are large. From roadside, boats bob up and drop away from view on a rhythm in half time to the peaks and troughs of traffic flow. Ropes tie boats to their berths; on the edge of the tide mooring lines are tense, the vertical passage eases the lines to form static traceries against the ripples.
The hanging rope under gravity forms what is known as a catenary, or chain curve. Once thought to be the line of a planet’s orbit, it describes the rotation of the turning focus of a parabola, a path with an expansive lift giving visual expression to the mute sensation of immense liquid volumes shepherded by the tide.
The lightly traced curve is visible in the rope and its reflection; a drawing of a bridge. The bridge of the Santa Trinita in Florence destroyed in a flood and rebuilt in 1567 with a series of arches is shaped by an unusual freehand line similar to the catenary curve, and deduced to be the line of Michaelangelo’s medici tombs.
Approximately twice every year road signs throughout this vicinity are unlocked warning motorists of flooded roads. We try to put a shine on the insecurity of rising water and our temporary tenancy, making analogies with Venice, Florence and the Arno river