Something changed. There is soil everywhere and
I finally see it. Feels like regaining sight. These
days are an intensive cure for my soil-myopia.
We take the soil for granted because it seems to
be there all the time. In fact, it is the root of our
existence and it also contains all the organs of
the planet plus all the eroded civilisations, it’s an
insurance policy against the failure of memory.
Soil is the material connection with the past. The
palimpsest of a rich mix of history, archaeology
and geology. But in some sense it has no past — it
is always like drawing a line and starting again.
Anything that seems pertaining to the past is just
a new beginning in the soil. It’s a telluric movement
toward the nonhuman. Such a lucid material!
∆ entry 18/11/2020 | Anetta Mona Chisa, Soil Diary (Liquid Dogmas, 2020)