No need to transcribe the experience when it’s already there; not unless that’s what you’re after. Even then, it might elude. But you’re after something else, aren’t you? No, it isn’t a release valve for emotion, either. Perhaps a vessel for their distillation? Or to save a life. Or to give shape to one that you mean to bring forth by looking. Or to keep a record of attention in an effort to witness this becoming. To call it out, over and again, finding it stranger at each turn. A silence opens.
The last line comes from the title of a poetry collection by Amy Clampitt.