SoundSpiral - Prose
This piece of prose, sourced by competitive open call, has been translated into the following languages. These are the words the Babel Spring will speak, in translation, winding around each other through the inflatable SoundSpiral.

To My Mother
by Tanya Myers - www.tanyamyers.com

(edited by Thomas Forrest)

Tanya Myers, SoundSpiral source-prose originator
Language Translated Recorded Granulated
Englishyesyesyes
Gujaratiyesyesyes
Germanyesyesyes
Frenchyesyesyes
Latvianyesyesyes
Urduyesyesyes
Somaliyesyesyes
Bengaliyesyesyes
Cornishyesyesyes
Finnishyesyesyes
Spanish (Argentinian)yesyesyes
Afrikaansyesyesyes
Swahiliyesyesyes
Akanyesyesyes
Luoyesyesyes
Creoleyesyesyes
Mandinkayesyesyes
Bulgarianyesyesyes
Patoisyesyesyes
Lugandayesyesyes
Shonayesyesyes
Farsiyesyesyes
Vietnameseyesyesyes
Chineseyesyesyes
Kurdishyesyesyes
Polishyesyesyes
Italianyesyesyes
Russianyesyesyes
Romanianyesyesyes
Arabicyesyesyes
Mongolianyesyesyes
Thaiyesyesyes
Japaneseyesyesyes
Greekyesyesyes
Pashtoyesyesyes
Amharicyesyesyes
Yorubayesyesyes
Portugueseyesyesyes
Sinhalayesyesyes
Welshyesyesyes
Gaelicyesyesyes
Hindiyesyesyes

To my mother:

Cherry, plum, peach and damson - each person, true to his or her individuality - has much in common with culture; Culture being the flowering of humanity, transcending national boundaries, time periods and other distinctions ... So, I know what Iíll do. Iíll marry culture and the land. Iíll start with an orchard, and then a forest, find out which trees are happiest where and when and then, nurture the land; in hot climates, in flooded gullies, in deserts that man has laid to waste, and each tree, each little sapling will be a healing of the heart.

And when your Heart stops: I will wrap you up and hold you lightly in my own heart as only the living can do. In memory; weíll find the value and discard the rest; take the poison and turn it to medicine; untangle the grief, and put the anger to good use.

We are like droplets that make up the ocean, all interconnected, surfacing as waves from time to time ... before dissolving back into the oceanís swell. But underneath this ebb and flow, is what we canít see, what our mindís canít fathom.

I promise you though, that I will keep on looking.