"How cold it is in the impasse where I knew you" (Desnos)

Phil showed me Jonathan Richman's "That Summer Feeling" in June, and I can't stop playing it. "Do you long for her or for the way you were?"

Amanda wrote something about trying to remember a spot in one's past--not to "re-live" but to recall how it was to be inside of there.

The problem of history as gaze, of gaze as making the whole body into an eye.

Last night, the last Sunday of my summer schedule, I read a page of Anna Moschovakis' Participation, and the narrator tries to describe the feeling of pleasure-dissociation a person can unexpectedly access, a kind of astonishment about the fact that one is affectively inside of a spot (not a physical location, of course). 

I am such a hedonist. I always want the impasse, the strange liminal zone of recall, idyll itself.