A visual essay on the watering hole as a place of truce — where anyone can come, where predators don't hunt prey during drought. Even an office water cooler becomes a point of convergence. The work crosses a modern cooler with baroque ornamentation and visual excess. Water rendered not just as liquid, but as sensation: purity, crystal, clarity. Yet everything is coated in patina, cracked paint, frozen and abandoned. A monument to something once vital, now decaying. Abundance meets obsolescence. The truce is over.