In Nockamixon Cliffs the shadowed foreground cliff provides the frame for the iterated tonal moiré pattern rising to the full white of the sunlight, the source of which is hidden in the deep darkness of the foreground. Trees stain the edge of shadow and light, softening their contrasts. Life joining – but not yet obscuring – heaven and earth. Here Kathleen Connally has taken advantage of her own sight, but also of the image the camera gave her. In offering it to us for contemplation, she provides us with a means of turning off the waterfall, of letting our thoughts stand still, of hearing our new melody.
This last was a play on a statement by musician Peter Ablinger: “When standing at the waterfall we become aware of our thoughts, but not of the waterfall itself. If we succeed in letting our thoughts stand still, we hear a melody within the turmoil, everyone his own.”

I'm getting dizzy here.