I want to write to you simply, but I cannot, the position I must take is complex, complicated by a history, complicated by our ability to tell a certain story, complicated by a dialogue that centres what is from the periphery, the edge. You are aware of this I know. But as we move into this conversation together, it should be stated as short preface to the main. I will get to these subjects, I promise. You know as well I do, that I cannot claim these words, for no matter how much I want them to be, they are not yet my most authentic sound. They are merely my attempt to make an authentic sound. A sound that is at once so silent and so violent that it must appear. It is the photograph we revisit, of us, sitting in the middle of a social space, deep in conversation, from days gone past. Our sonic ability frozen, waiting to break out of the static bond. You might read these sentences and imagine them as extracts from these conversations, but they are not only this. You must see how every sentence I utter is a proposition, nothing more, nothing less. That is where this begins, with us, coming into deep contact with our voices, offering up our vulnerability, our ability to share our wound and to know we can be wounded. I can only ask you to hear me as I try to find a way beyond the scream, the phonetic resounding of my static bond, of our static bond. Because to ask is to understand that you can choose what you hear, and what I want to be heard is only a proposition to be heard. I am proposing to be heard, and the irony that I ask this in writing is not lost on me. I am pre-scripting my voice. In truth it is not me who speaks. I can only allow what is happening to me, to pass through me. I am the vessel to a proposal from the other, I reside on a border, between here and there. These two sites of here and there, that I have found interchanging everywhere, forever working on me, asking me to pick, but how can I pick? To choose would be to say I am of a place, I am made of place, but this is not the case. I am placeless. I have been given places, yes, but the means by which they were given to me, to us, was only chance, it could have been here, but it could be there. As one who has always held a border position, a position of neither, I am content to oscillate between these two, and if you can, I ask you take the courage and remain placeless with me.
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Joshua Leon © 2020