Here is my business card. It shows a photograph taken by Herbert Ponting during Robert Falcon Scott’s Antarctic expedition of 1910-13. People, whom I give this card to, often remark on the striking image. It shows a cave, fringed with icicles, looking out to a frozen sea beyond. They often assume I took the photograph as if it is my business to photograph. I like the image because it looks like the view from inside a vagina.
Let us imagine that an eye could be present from this position, like the tiny Numskull technicians from the children’s comic strip The Beezer that existed to control the actions of their host from inside its head. To see through another organ, to have the point of view of a vagina. For this POV, seen from Ponting’s image on my card, we must imagine a body lying on the ice pack. Scale would be an irrelevance were it not for the two small figures standing between the labia minora and majora. Whether we accept the figure lying in the snow as massive or in miniature the size of the viewing space from which we see is less relevant than the view beyond. We can see the ex-whaling ship Terra Nova trapped in pack ice.
So, we have a body, a mass, exposed on a landscape of snow and ice. And we have a viewing position from inside the corpus. Is this the viewing position of microbia who cannot see, as the human eye sees, but feels and senses through smell, motion, trembling? She circles around the dance floor on roller skates to the sounds of a metalic beat, she’s lost control again. A blue chalk circle is drawn on the post of a pine stair case.