What is a 'voice'?
A complexity and emergence rumination
In 2025 I was part of a small writing group that was set up as an Unpsychology magazine initiative. One day the question of voice came up, and I wrote down some thoughts… (first pulished in July, 2025).
Something wants to come through you. What is that?
That is your voice, the thing that wants to speak using your cellular container.
Is it you? Well, yes, and no.
It’s not the self, or the ego.
What wants to come through is an emergence1 from the flows that pass through you, that eddy around your container.
Flows of culture, language, memory, conditioning, convention, impressions, influences; they continually move through you because you’re open to your environment and alive. Sometimes something just appears within you, or onto some paper, or as a tune in your head, and you have no idea where it came from or why. It’s a mystery.
Another mystery is how a person somehow holds a sense of themselves together in the midst of these flows. Holding it together is not quite the right expression though, because it takes no effort of consciousness or will – a sense of self is itself a continuing emergence, which is needed for the system to survive and thrive as a system; constantly adapting and reforming itself, always in motion.
This is the lifeforce moving through a human.
As humans we often interfere with what wants to come through with our thoughts, our desires, our egos, our inherited sense of what should be. ‘When you force it, you block it’; we try to sidestep what wants to emerge because it may not suit our idea of ourselves or our plans, or it feels too frighteningly unknown to our shaky nervous systems. When that happens, we can short-circuit and lose our sense of direction.
Art is simply what wants to pass through you. A raindrop on a branch. Articulating an injustice. Words that form without trying. It doesn’t have to meet any standards of meaning or interest, especially those that come from outside of you.
Why not forget all those prescriptive ideas about art and set down your feelings and thoughts as they come to you, freely, in a way that you like?
Most of the time, your psyche does its best to get in the way.
You kill your dream because you know that to engage with a dream is to completely attune yourself to your body, your purity, your strength, the force of your will, and also your greed, your impatience, your lust, your grief.
You kill your dreams because you know that enduring these forces is hard work. Dreams require hard work, every single day, and the work doesn’t end until you’re dead.
Sometimes there’s interference from cultural ideas about what is and is not ‘allowed’. Inherited ideas about art, in its widest sense, can choke an emergent whisper before it even opens its mouth.
Maybe it would help to rethink what art actually is…
Maybe the artist’s role now is not to ascend above the world, but to be its attentive participant. Not to justify the self, but to remain open. Not to disappear into the work, but to let the work emerge from the flux. That may not look like genius. But it might look a lot more like life.
The Artist’s Role in a Fragmented World, Blackbird Rook, 20.5.25
All images by Tamsin Haggis
Emergence refers to unexpected properties which arise from complex adaptive systems in a way that can’t be tracked back to an single cause or reason through any observable cause/ effect linear process. It’s a tipping point thing; at a certain moment, a change takes place - an anthill suddenly collapses, a swarm of birds changes direction, a group suddenly align in harmony, an idea appears where before there was nothing….There’s no way to explain exactly why the thing happens, but it has an adaptive function, in that the system benefits from what occurs.








I love this. I also love hearing your voice reading the piece, which is a constant emergence ; a music all of its own, moment to moment.
I’m playing with what wants to come when I close my eyes and consciously hold someone/something ( emerging phenomena) in my conscious attention and then take one minute to play on the page with a nice pen on good paper. It’s incredibly relaxing. I heard a phrase the other day - can’t remember where - “let the river come to you”. It was a profound invitation for me as one of life’s habitual thrusters and reachers to sit back on life and witness what emerges.
Also, random knitting whilst singing/storytelling/playing with songwriting. Knitting is great as it’s bilateral, rhythmic, repetitive, and tactile. There’s something about the “kinder angle” created by what feels like a sense of benign distraction when the flow of the knitting meets other areas of creativity without confrontation or expectation. A ritual of regulation.
I want to go back to the article now but I’m scared to lose my thread here, so I hope that this resonates. My response comes from resonance with your words, so it does for me ♥️
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What a beautiful essay and I am going to come back to this again and again. ‘a sense of self is itself a continuing emergence’ - I deeply align with this. My partner often calls it the awareness and he also says that we often come in the way of the awareness with our thinking minds and inhibits its flow.
Beautifully rendered essay Tamsin. You have threaded an effervescent almost metaphysical aspect of art so solidly into words.