Float

Water can be both a source of fear and fascination, shaping our perceptions of immersion and vulnerability. The spaces around us—through smell, sound, and texture—curate this immersive experience, sometimes evoking feelings of fear. Float is based on the sensation of sinking to the depths of water, where fear takes on a tangible form. As someone who struggles to swim and trust the water, this virtual environment transforms water into an unpredictable force that pulls you into its depths. The transition from the air to a closed space underwater deafens the senses we’ve honed on land. Once you submerge yourself in water, the rules of land break down. You can tumble, twist, float, or sink, experiencing movements that are otherwise impossible to do safely unless one is thousands of miles off the ground. Vision becomes blurred, represented by the shaking of instructions on how to swim. The space begins in a pool, the most accessible body of water to me, where drowning feels less imminent under the watch of lifeguards. However, with an unexpected entrance to a deeper level and ultimately to open waters, I aim to mirror the mistrust I feel in such spaces. As people stand around the pool, their paths blocked by glass screens, one’s safety becomes solely their own responsibility upon entering the water. In projects like Osmose by Char Davies, spatial sounds engage the senses, and these cues have inspired the use of sound effects in Float to simulate the experience of struggling in water. While Osmose seeks to separate reality from an otherworldly space, Float grounds itself in personal experience. For me, swimming often ends with the aid of an object or person, and the absence of that safety net reflects determines the confidence in swimming. One can only hope they can grab onto life as they exhaust their stamina.