The First Steps.

My first attempt at aurally redefining the environment around me was a definite success. I went for a “soundwalk” that culminated in quiet meditation in the middle of the Downer Woods. It was a new and enlightening experience. The relative silence of the forest compared to the constant noise of the city provided a shelter for both my ears and my mind and allowed me the repose necessary to truly open up to something new. I noticed first of all on my walk the sounds of my own person as I moved, particularly the different sounds my made against the various surfaces I walked upon. The dragging-slap of gravel; the harsh thwak of concrete; the softer thud of asphalt; even the hollow echo of the wooden footbridge. As I reached the spot where I chose to pause--A small rock on the bank of a dried up creek, probably only alive in the spring--I stopped my ears with my hands and just meditated visually on the landscape. The tranquility of the forest was awe-inspiring, but as the silence sunk in slowly the missing elements permeated my observations and left me feeling eerily out of synch with the world I was visually a part of. The blind world, on the other hand, had a more immediate sense of loss, but a less vital one. The things I could no longer see were evident to me, but not important. I felt a soundscape that not only was complete but was fleshing itself out with every passing sound.
To list a few: -The wind as it slowly brushed past leaves above me. -A large gust of wind bullying its way through whole trees from time to time -A lone door creak slowly in the distance to the right of me -The buzz of a fly as it hovered in and out at the left side of my face. Its initial approach was slow and deliberate and on discovering me it wavered slowly by my left ear. -The almost harmonic drone of traffic, starting almost unrecognizably slow and building to the dull roar of a automobile. -The frantic communiqué of two birds across the distance of the forest. Penetrating and trilling. -The canvassing sound of a jet as it passed overhead, and the subtle whine of its engine piercing the din. -The arhythmic squeak of tennis shoes against the surface of both tennis and basketball courts. Sometimes singular, often forming intricate patterns in succession. In all the sounds I heard, my first impression was a blank non-understanding. Every sound seemed strange and new at first and it was seconds after hearing the sound that I was able to place it in my map of the world. The sounds that were obvious to me were the ones I was physically responsible for. The soundscape so minutely present was a fresh experience, and in the days following I have often paused to absorb the qualities of a new aural atmosphere, when I find myself somewhere visually new. This new project in the exploration of sound seems to be one I will not only thoroughly enjoy, but also one that will influence my interpretation of the world around me.