Then I suddenly became aware that that which I was observing was a silence that wasn’t mine alone. It was an ancient sob that had been halted by a pair of eyes a hundred years ago, at a kitchen table in rural flanders. A sob which was stuck in my throat and that I could finally name. How could I so suddenly put words to pain? It must have been the death of the Irish singer Sinéad O’Connor that moved something in me. From the diaphragm, the same breath that sang “Nothing Compares 2 U” shook loose an anger in myself. This text is a record of the shaking loose of the sob of my grandmothers.

keywords: Sinéad O’Connor, Voice, Writing, Speaking, Singing, Desire, Sexuality, Diversion, Break, Mothers, Place

Author: Chloë Janssens