Written in Sand echoes the natural shapes and contours of ‘bedforms’: the shallow, roughly parallel ridges that emerge when moving fluids shape granular materials such as sand or silt. These patterns are not fixed objects but traces of motion—records of pressure, flow and erosion momentarily held in place. The sinuous cello lines were traced directly from an photo of bedforms I took while in Golden Bay (New Zealand), their contours translated into curved lines that formed pitch and gesture. Underneath this is a recorded layer derived from a nocturnal field recording of waves gently breaking on Wellington’s south coast, as well as sparse electronic tones that complete the serenity of the landscape. Combined, these elements dwell on liminality and transitoriness. The scene is one of impermanence, where land is repeatedly written over by water, these forms existing for only a few hours before being erased and rewritten, over and over again.