when i open a map of Tkaronto/Toronto, i see a story but there is no "home".

i feel displacement, silencing and erasure, incredible anger and loss.

i feel the trauma from housing crises and all the volunteer work i and others did with nearly no results.

and, i also remember the beautifully possible i have seen behind the doors of our politicians and bureaucrats.

i believe in the agency of sound
our voices are the most authentic machines in our bodies. we can voice screams, crying, songs. we can hum, speak gibberish, sigh, whistle. we can speak words, sentences, stories, in poem, prose, speeches, readings, that make sense or not. our voices have power and letting them verbalize our truths even if these truths are temporary can feel scary and dangerous simply because we have been trained to marginalize, pathologise, disable, institutionalize, imprison those who think and speak differently. the energy of trauma then stays repressed exactly because verbalizing feels/is "impossible". in these conditions, imagining future, verbalizing and sharing a vision is impossible. allowing for utopia is impossible or dangerous.

allowing for sound can be a tool to access utopia and shift it into the category of the possible.