Ground Truth

I keep making the same photograph. My feet. The ground. Whatever I am standing in. Water. Grass. Sand. Wood. Silt. The foot is inscribed. The ground is inscribed too. Two marked surfaces meeting. A map fixes what is alive. A body standing in a river will not hold still to be drawn. These are self-portraits. You never see my face. You see where I made contact. Before I was anything else, I was this. What do you know about yourself that a map could not hold?