Mwen Alé – The Quest for Resonance recounts the initial spark that brings the self to embark on a journey taken on by so many Black queer Caribbean people. This is a journey beyond conformity, beyond the limits of the places and spaces we call home along the way, but which cannot fathom the full extent of who we are.
We may end up at some point learning that this hope is a double-edged sword, though. Indeed, queerness abroad is not necessarily inclusive of our culture, racial identity or gender expression. But hope is a resilient feeling that still fuels us to keep moving – looking for this special somewhere where we will find a resonance with our soul, unapologetically, authentically, and amongst our people.
Mwen alé (adaptation de Apotasso sur padjanbèl)
[Ritounèl : Oulélé ladé ladé lala
Oulélé ladé ladé lala
Oulélé ladé ladé lala
Ou lé ladé ladé ladé lala]
O prèmyé jou, an té ja ka santi
Sa an aprann a pa sa an ja sav,
Pon bèlpawòl pé’é madragé Solèy
Lè douvanjou nanm-la ké dépalé.
É toubòlman pani moli ankò,
Lagé kòd-la, lagé labitasyon,
Tout fo rasin ou té ka di sé ta-w
Granvan lavi ké sa déchouké yo.
[Ritounèl]
An té konprann fè kon lakonpani
Téké fè yo enmé kyè-mwen osi
Maré zèl-mwen, swanyé lézaparans,
Soufè an kyè, souri, fè yo plézi.
Anmwé sa rèd, mi fò mwen déviré
Nou pé ka sanm, mè nou pa’a rézonné
Tout kréyati bizwen mizik a yo,
Lanmè é flanm pa té fèt pou mayé.
[Ritounèl]
Granjou wouvè, mi mwen ka pran lavòl,
An dékolé, ovwa lakonpani,
An ké sonjé lé bontan, movétan,
Mi jòdijou, mi sé jou mwen alé.
Lè an rivé, an tann lé répondè
Lévé lavwa, fè-mwen gadé dèmen,
Mi an touvé mizik a nanm-anmwen,
Kyè-mwen ka bat on mizi padjanbèl.
[Ritounèl]
Homegoing – Apotasso
When foreign worlds collide in the same universe
hardly built to contain the echo of frictions
that were bound to happen and to wreck the silence
deep within, cosmic void, where the outside can’t tell,
the breaking instantly unleashes its power
and propels the being towards uncharted land
where the bark that is dear but way too concealing
has to peel off, stay back and become memory.
The strongest denial cannot last forever –
an albatross on land will always wish for skies
where it fits and its wings can now spread, majestic,
while it flies through the clouds, which is where it belongs.
A unique type of pain surfaces when grieving
the shackles that were binding the self to a place
where longing made the burning metal taste like home,
allegiance to the earth – and the sky forsaken.
And pretend as we may, the brightest of all smiles
will not be warm enough to lighten the burden
of a soulless being, of a call unanswered,
of a fire that wishes to merge with the sea.
From this grief, however, hope comes to existence,
emerging through the words holding a thousand pains.
–Taking flight, losing sight and meeting high above
fellow souls here singing, unbeknown to the earth;
and they sing and their voices carry a melody
that echoes beyond words, a deep recollection;
– Embracing the unknown on the day here, open
when the excited heart now ventures with no map
and now pledges to trust the ethereal ground,
claiming its uniqueness with no more concessions;
– Shedding all the layers of pretense while in flight,
wishing the new wonders to be filled with cheer, hope,
to bear an unshakable, pressing devotion
to be oneself, fully, and come home to the clouds…
Apotasso
Quand les mondes, collision, se rencontrent l’un et l’autre
En un seul univers dont les limites peinent
À contenir l’écho des scissions essentielles
Dans le fond du trou noir insonore au cosmos,
Le schisme très pressant, ainsi, en un instant
Précipite l’ouvrage dans l’élan, renouveau,
Conjuguant au passé les bribes effeuillées
D’une écorce qui protège tout autant qu’elle enferme.
L’albatros incrédule ne peut nier à vie
Qu’une fois sorti de l’œuf, la terre n’est son royaume.
Son étrangeté au sol n’est plus rien dans les nues
Où ses traits atypiques prennent enfin tout leur sens.
Il existe une peine tout à fait singulière
À délaisser les fers qui, certes mal adaptés,
Nourrissaient le vœu pieux d’avoir trouvé les siens,
D’être même arrivé à renier le ciel.
Convention cantharide où les plus beaux sourires
Ne sauraient réprimer l’abysse originel
D’un être sans repère, d’une voix sans écho,
D’un brasier qui voulait tant plaire à l’océan.
Cependant de ce deuil nait aussi un espoir
Qui point dessous la page où les maux se confondent.
– S’élancer, perdre pieds et trouver dans l’envol
Des âmes dont le chant n’avait pas touché terre
Mais composaient dans l’air la partition sublime
Que l’être réclamait sans pouvoir la nommer;
– Conjuguer au présent cet appel du néant
Où les voies non tracées laissent le cœur fébrile,
Résolution nouvelle, faire confiance au vide,
Célébrer l’atypie qui n’a plus à se dire;
– Laisser la pesanteur faire un sort aux parades,
Que les « et si? » nouveaux n’aient l’amertume d’hier,
Qu’ils invoquent la fougue, l’urgence irrémédiable
D’être soi et des cieux faire sa nouvelle demeure…
Note on the “postcard” art
The artwork created for this piece plays on the duality of the postcard imagery, integrating a variety of symbols and pictures that represent my identity in a format that seems light and easy at first glance.
The imagery addresses the fact that Guadeloupe is often thought of as a postcard destination, when the population is actually navigating far more nuanced and challenging dynamics. In looking at the details, we realize that there is more happening behind the initial postcard appearance – a more complex identity emerges/reveals itself and the double edges of hope start echoing below the surface.
