Eight bottles total were transported in my carry-on baggage. The water in the bottles was then emptied/squirted/sprayed into the Rhein as we howled at the full moon and cursed and cried. To commemorate the memories of our professor, I wrote some quotations from memory or from the evening on my leg. Haunting and grainy, these photographs, made my Tobaron Waxman, effectively capture the haze of mourning, the darkness and some motion behind rejoicing despite desperate feelings of loss.