The imagination in which we live is dried out. Although we inhabit its ghost, the world in which stability and the binary were the foundation of everything, died a long time ago. The current crises and socio-political scenarios on the planet only evidence its death.
With this awareness, we must conquer the crisis and create new visions, but this time recognizing movement as an intrinsic characteristic in the life of every living being. And for that we don’t have to go very far: the ocean is the space from which we can create that moment radically different from the present. Take any human idea and put it in the ocean; it will surely end up collapsed or diluted, because that which is rigid, has no place in water.
Undoubtedly, we are talking about an emancipatory process, or rather the continuation of what has been going on over the last three centuries. For, are not the American and African independences the result of the search for a movement that denies colonialism?
In my part of the world, this search for movement began to be thought of in the Maroon communities [consisting of escaped enslaved people] in the high mountains. So, paradoxical as it may sound, in the Caribbean, continuing emancipation across the ocean cannot be separated from the history of the mountains.
The first thing the mountains tell us is that the key tools to disarticulate old ideas and create new ones are not supernatural devices, but sonorities and active listening. Used as a wind instrument, the fututo [an instrument made from cone shells] made possible in the Caribbean the formation of communities of resistance where indigenous and African populations fled from enslavement. Tracing the origins of regional independence processes of the 19th and 20th centuries leads us to the fututo as an articulator, with different ways of sounding but always calling to freedom.