For the happy man! - Collected writings DEPRESSION: Ed Atkins

within the hole.
1(These things, agglomerated, approaching
the infinite affect reminiscent of the brinking
event horizon of that dilated black hole
lurking at the centre of every galaxy. Which
is why they had to be dispersed, you say. (*A
long pause [...]*)
1999An egg, the shell of which the texture of
sandpaper. – As opposed to the ubiquitous
glassy nothing of contemporary haptics. I
think of youth, you exhort, when I think of
the hyperfluency of surfaces abound these
days. Supple, greased. The notion of surface,
of texture, so closely confederated to that of
smoothness that we have, perhaps, forgotten
that the latter is merely one in a monstrous
lexicon of textural adjectives!
1999 BC(*one hand still rummaging down there
[...]*)
C20thThe patron saint of corrugations, rivulets –
those that labour in troughs, ditches, mines.
The patron saint of concavities and biconcavities.
Often understood as having lived
most of her life in hermitage at the bottom
of The Cave of Swallows. Twinned with the
saint that patronises hillocks, dunes, ulcers,
warts; protrusions, convexities. Who lived
on the wing, predominantly.
3400 ADThe
reliquaries of that gestural mother