As I walk past the physical plant close to the drama building at UT, I become fascinated with the steam stacks that constantly spew out white, cloudlike substance. At night, this artificial fog hugs the streetlamps. The mood is gothic and ghostlike. The air seems to visibly dance around the light. I am reminded of near death experiences, moving towards the light of the Creatrix. I think of industrial death, the body in modern age equating near death experiences with a metaphor of hyper-industrialism.

When I went to our property in the Texas Hill Country, the creek that normally flows during December and January was completely dry. I wanted to experience the death of the creek, if only temporary, but dancing on the white, bone dry rocks as a Butoh Cowgirl. My spirit becomes shadow on the rocks, inverted. Images of a bonfire I had taken months previous merge into the fire of my spirit self, the undying, infinite being that is me. I haunt my self, the land and the culture of industrial death. I signal through the flames, a fleeting call for help in a drowning industrial death culture.

This film was edited in Premiere. All moving and still images were taken from a Canon PowerShot digital camera.