Text by Pete Farrugia
Love is folly. The maiden, repelled by her own reflection in a brimming barrel of sake, is suspended between doubt and despair. She is overtaken by the sound of a nearby waterfall and the forest wind. The water is a drum, the air is a flute. She moves on stage and falls in love with the sudden thought of herself. Extending beyond the confines of that moment in the mirror, she dreams. She escapes, she melts into air. Into thin air.