Tiny Mining

Each trace on this silver holds the memory of the body’s behaviour. They are the chemical genetic components from which we are made. Geology becomes genetics, an infinite trail of inherited information that we casually walk through seemingly senseless to the fabric of the world.

Here the ingestor’s body may be said to know what technological instruments cannot. The body has escaped its self-contained condition, it is no longer master of its own destiny, the skin has been infiltrated—no longer a protective border between one side and another, blurring preconceived delineations. It is in this way that all borders, marks and lines function here, as constantly reassembling alchemic frissons, traces of change.

Swallowing is just another name for the incorporation of the other. We might want to estimate the consequence of ingestion, like our mouths, being open to intrusion from the day we are born. The mouth is the site of nurture, breath, aggression, appetite, language, and even knowledge: through our mouths we originally come to know the world and differentiate ourselves from it. Your body is implicated as you peer at these rocks; it is a visceral and never merely intellectual encounter. It reminds you that the mouth is the part of our body where there is the most going on, our most visible and vulnerable of orifices, the seat of so much that is essential to our staying alive.

** fragments from Daguerrolito