Living Scores

Fellow statements, fellow hungry mouths, fellow introverts, fellow inner voices, fellow dynamic duets, fellow quiet revolutions, fellow unheroic holograms, fellow calls to justice, fellow pacts, fellow linguistic migrants, I call on you. // Fellow bonds, borders, and bodies that won’t be silenced, fellow bones that won’t be disappeared, fellow fierce rattling and unshackling, fellow divergent voices, fellow dissidents and discordants, I call on you. // Fellow tantrums and episodic madnesses, fellow imaginary voices that refuse to be forgotten, fellow phantoms, fellow ghosted and silenced, fellow unsung marginals, fellow musical mastodons struggling against extinction, fellow rejects, fellow ephemera, fellow notes, notations, marginalia, magic markers, fellow believers and non-believers and disbelievers and beyond-believers, I call on you. // Fellow murmurs and fissures, whispers and cracks, rumblings and time gaps, fellow articulations and disarticulations, fellow thoraxes and tongues, fellow dreamers, mystics, and visionaries, I call on you. // Fellow mispronounced, mistreated, misunderstood, misengineered, misallocated, misinformed, misrepresented, I call on you. Pronounce your part.

Somewhere on a solitary plain, a body stands, a voice articulates. Sends fragments of sounds in all directions. There may be someone within earshot. The field is public, after all, a sort of commons. Though no one seems to be listening. Or perhaps many are.

A glitch in the fantasy.

For the field need not be empty, though a voice feels isolated, even lonely.

The plain in fact teems with life. Fumbling, crawling, burrowing, and slithering, organisms produce a deafening roar. If one stops to listen. If one pays attention. If one lends an ear. If one tunes the frequencies. If one responds in difference.

To be a multivalent subject of ear and mouth, of attention and breath, of idiom and voice. Not just multilingual or polylingual, but interlingual, crosslingual, extralingual.

Could mean to struggle against the atrophy of connectivity and being. Wander in a matrix of sound in which everything is intimately, physically, materially connected through sonic vibrations, every reverberation touching, bouncing off, intersecting and merging with others. Both a chaotic assemblage and a generator of patterns, islands of sense, sediments of conjunctions and diversions, temporal palimpsests of volumes and tones.

To embrace the chaos, the disjunction and the connectivity. To pronounce and listen oneself into being. To bear the responsibility of the audible and the inaudible. To always begin in the middle.

Could mean to drown out the dominant voice by celebrating the unheard, the quasi-silent, the barely discernible, the almost invisible, the dissonant, the ignored, the rejected. 

And in pronouncing, to risk discomfort and be socially disharmonious, break the unspoken rules of politeness, the social conventions of engagement.  

Somewhere on a solitary plain, a body attends to audible presence, a voice glitches, enacting its existence.