Liquid extracted from plants, in the color of the plants that were asleep in this earth. The thread hanging from the ceiling, the liquid running down it, and the volcanic rock at its end point. The liquid drips at a precise rhythm dictated by a machine, and reaches the heated volcanic rock. It is broken down into color, smell, and steam. Here, organic uncertainties like the heat, atmospheric temperature, dampness of the thread, and position, exist alongside inorganic precision. Once, when nature was still something to be feared, these natural phenomena had meaning, and they were respected. But as the times changed, people pursued their own convenience, and color itself was encoded. By its nature, color is life, and it should be impossible to capture that on a 2D screen. The ambiguous cooperation between nature and machine might awaken the records in our own memories allowing us to recreate the relationship between humanity and the unknown.