March 2024 // I took this photo of a dent in the earth, S. standing at its upper edge snout to the wind. She must have been wagging her tail (pleasure?) either in broad ecstatic circles or on the decline. From its tilt it could be both, easily. (Later, on jouissance and her cyclon-ing ; sophia and I at a wedding, on the dance floor, cyclon-ing with boys and girls). Port Meadow in March burnt and wet, some mornings frosty. I never let her off the leash. (Later, on ‘unleashing’). Liquid returning to the broad muddy plains across which you could see another village and looking left past the houseboats and canal, the Thames. I was composing a document on wallows and wallowing but this document is still imaginary. I remember now the little disposable lens round as if surprised, fingers blanched from wind, taking this photograph tagging it ‘Depression!’
The contours were more overt. A shadow in the image hints depth. What’s the difference between impression and depression? As if a punchline follows. One word is heavier than the other ; one word is heavier than another. On the tongue. I close my eyes and here I receive: that an impression emerges through pressure + intention into/against receptive or responsive surface—as if kneeling with palms pressed forward— whereas depression emerges through pressure + a fall—as if the backbody, touch is where ‘behinds’ convene then merge, tacky and porous, all that is at the heels gnawing no longer nipping—and this etymology is temporarily mine. Here I am making an impression.
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