This is not the famous pond with water lilies. The water trembles, gleams, shines with various colours, but there are no nenuphars, no white lotuses or of any other colour. Water? Is it water? Water can be hardly seen under the thick cover of leaves floating on its surface. Maybe there is no water at all in this pond. Maybe the fallen leaves are the water, filling entirely the pit, to the very bottom. They tremble, gleam, shine with various colours, most willingly with yellowish greens, rotten browns, greys, sometimes flash with golden red, but in such a moment doubts appear, whether this is water or fish scales. What a fish could it be? No doubt a flying fish. An air one. Aerial or airy-fairy? A tree fish, an in-tree one – and if not an in-tree, then in-cloud. A sky fish. A fish which has fallen down from the sky. Because it is not a fish-ancestor which emerged from the belly of the Earth, or which has arrived from the other side of the world, and this is so because this pond is not one of those water-wells deep to the bottom of the Earth and Time, tunnelling straight to the Dream Epoch, which remains on the other side of the world. This fish does not belong to those ones who carry the world on their backs, either – were they a few or just one? If it does, then there must be several fish-carriers, otherwise the world would collapse; however it is not clear, if this is what has just happened: the world carried by this fish had collapsed and the fish, free of the burden of the world, emerged from the abyss of water; well, not necessarily it had been carried this world, our world – it had been carrying another world, quite small, fish are not as strong as ants, and worlds they used to carry are not many times bigger and heavier than they, the fish, are, they are only little bit heavier and bigger. This is very interesting: a different world on each fish – as many worlds as fish. And neither blue, nor azure, nor navy blue, nor cobalt, nor ultramarine tones and dyes. No inky waters – because this is not an ink-pot. But inks can be different, not only blue and bluish. For example brown, green, red, and colourless. Invisible. Having various dyes and tones of invisibility. Yes. This is really interesting. A visible world described with invisible ink. An invisible description of the visible world. Is it the same as visible description of invisible world? What can be dipped in this ink? A reed. A simple, most simple pen made of an ordinary reed. There are no reeds here. Reeds don't grow here. The pond's shores are free. It's a pity. It's so nice to draw reeds. Any rush. It's so simple, and so difficult at the same time. It seems it's enough to put a lot of vertical, or almost vertical lines, strokes, fast and bold, of almost the same thickness, then to hit the page here and there, with a pencil, obliquely or zig-zaging, short cut up, longer cut down, like a knife, like a sword, like a brush. Done. Ready. Oh, no. No success again. Either too many strokes, too many lines, or too few lines, either too strong, or not strong enough, either the angle is not right, or the saturation of black and grey is not as it should be. And so on. All the time the same. One can get crazy because of the simplicity and easiness of the subject... Miscanthus instead of reeds. A wall of miscanthus. Almost like rush, but more subtle, more delicate, thinner, more supple, brighter, more dense, having more leaves, a lot of long narrow ribbon-like leaves flapping in the wind, more oblique and horizontal lines and strokes... and those fluffy feathery plumes...   <<<