i’ve started thinking about realms of language as worldings themselves– worldings that allow or negate the birth of certain identities, ideas, expressions, laws. thinking of this prenatal weight within language that gives rise to possibility spaces while preventing and/or destroying others– a sort of necro-linguistic dimension on one end. the way reality is even processed/encountered changes with each language space. for example, in aymara, instead of implying a gaze directed forward, moving through time (with tomorrow coming sequentially “ahead” of today which came “ahead” of yesterday), speakers instead face the past and have their backs to the future (q"ipa, the word for “future” translates as behind or back– q"ipüru, the word for “tomorrow” translates to “some day behind one’s back”).
when i think of geography, i think of all the things that cling to/ define a body as it moves through space or manifests a locality, toward/ away from something else, where and what it was or couldn’t be. we carry whatever was thrown onto us at birth– things clutter, signalling divergent, sometimes contradictory messages, changing with each new environment we find ourselves in. i live as the embodiment of a continued dreaming by my ancestors– progenitors of stone, chemical, single-celled and zooidic forebearers, to my native family under the enslavement of the inca and then the spanish, to my mother arriving in the US as a child, unable to speak english at a school in Barstow, California. my desires quantize into the detrital unmooring that is Americanness. negotiating this scattering, this shift, is an act of de/recolonization, a continuous motion. pushed into waves, molecular vibrations recoordinate/realign with those nucleotidic impulses braided through me. musically, i use everything– recycle myself, regurgitating bowels and entrails– chance and haphazard divinations that would or might lead me back to certain lost rhythms and cadences; light shattering on the face of a river, the bob of a pigeon’s head in a city i have become homeless in, the syncopation of a human heart as it metabolizes an injection of tar and coke. this is my gait, the cascade of my dismemberment, seismic pulse of my re-formation, my American drift.
gummygunk
annaxmalina
kaledo-art
discoholicmusic
areudirty
romaincrisis
titsay
