ABSTRACT
Voice happens. But when does voice happen? I am no longer certain that I can know when voice happens, because it is always happening. What I do know is that the voice I have been seeking as an indicator of expressed thought exceeds my ways of hearing, knowing, and understanding. The voice which I have been seeking to ‘capture’ and tame as clear, pure, and articulable is now only present to me as slippery, shifting, knowable, unknowable, certain, uncertain, audible, inaudible, and certainly unstable. Can I take comfort in this certainty of uncertainty? Can I know that I know when voice happens just because it is always already happening?
