K.E. Looms above the low-angled camera like a totemic figure — an übermesch of ancient proportions.
Every few moments, an emission gathers on her lips, then slowly spills and falls, splashing onto the lens below.
The droplets pool together, obscuring the lens until it resembles an impressionistic storm, with K.E.’s resolute figure caught in its hazy centre.
Her gaze swims in and out of focus as the volume of liquid increases and the maelstrom builds.
Yet with each consecutive drop, inevitable as rain, her impassive downward stare attains greater solidity, in tacit confirmation that this ritual will go on forever.