Reading Response, Will Self

I read an interview of Will Self on WorldHum.com that dealt with Self's beginnings and expieriences as modern day Flaneur. I chose to read and respond to this interview because it struck me as something close to my experiences as an amateur drifter. He talked a great deal about the realizations he made that transformed him into this kind of walker and I was able to connect with and was effected by some of his findings.

The interview is on a simple scale a publicity interview for Self's book Psychogeography but on a broader scale it reveals much about his connection to this style of walking. He says it began for him with the thought that he had never seen the mouth of the Thames river, either in person or in a representation. He then chose to drive to the mouth and was surprised by how it did not look anything like what he had imagined. He explains how from that finding this type of walk has transformed into more than just an exercise. It holds spiritual meaning that he says has affected his soul in an incredibly positive way. 

Self's experiences as a drift walker really helped my media projects in that it helped me connect to my drift walks better. I remembered how he said it was a "bare-bones" kind of practice. You just go out there, with almost nothing, expecting nothing, and absorbing whatever you can. There are no strings attached and you come out of it with not exactly what you put into it, but what you accept or allow. The words that really affected me and rang throughout my walks were, "the hideousness of the globalized, man-machine matrix." I felt like I was able to remove myself from the machine and witness a natural beauty that I think I can find whenever I want from now on in my life.

Questions, questions questions...

In preparation for my second drift it is important that I address some of the things I noticed in my first drift. Here are some of the questions I pose myself...

1. What kinds of areas contrasted or compared to other areas?
2. Where did I notice large groups of people engaged in activity?
3. Where did I find sights that puzzled, perplexed, and confused me?
4. How would my findings change in different weather conditions?
5. How would a residential area produce a different atmosphere during the day then at night?
6. How did people react to a person carrying a microphone and how can it be concealed to produce a more natural response?
7. Where can I find the perfect balance between nature and industry?
8. Where can I go and be surrounded by 100% nature?
9. What kinds of things prompted interesting social, cultural, and moral ideas.
10. What did I do that engaged myself in my surroundings the most?

Assessing My First Drift

During my first drift I was momentarily bothered by what seemed to be an absence of interesting noises. This may have to do with the speed at which I encountered my first interesting sound. So the fact that I walked for several blocks without hearing anything out of the ordinary in the middle of my walk was troubling. Another thing that worried me was that way in which people acted when they realized I was using some sort of recording device. Some of the people I saw on the sidewalks changed their course by crossing the street before walking past the microphone. Others quieted their conversations as I approached.

I felt unusually at peace in the beginning of my walk. I had made my way past the Norris Health Center and sat down in the parking lot by the Heating Plant. The Heating Plant creates a droning hum that hypnotized me. I got lost in its unrelenting ambiance. Needless to say it was a fine way to begin my walk. I also found peace wandering through local residential neighborhoods. Activity was scarce. I was far enough away from the sounds of traffic on busy streets and close enough to the sounds of nature (the wind blowing through tree leaves, birds singing, animals scurrying past me on the grass) without feeling completely cut off from society.

In the days leading up to my walk and my preparations for it I was not expecting to find sounds that I could call interesting as easily as I did. I was somewhat prepared to actively participate with my surroundings in order to produce noises. I was pleased to find the field experience contrary to my preparations. I was able to allow my surroundings to act as they were without my interference. I was also confronted by an interesting social situation. My algorithm had lead me to what I would call an “upper-class” neighborhood. It was here that I witnessed large, beautiful houses with extensively detailed landscaping. It seemed like every other house had a lawn-care service present making sure their hedges were trimmed, flower gardens watered, and sidewalk free of weeds. It caused me to wonder about these companies, their clients, and how many people would be out of jobs if the “upper-class” could no longer afford such luxuries. During my walk I was also confronted with on the spot decision making. My drift strategy contained a time limit in which I would stay on a certain road. There were times however when the sounds I was recording exceeded the time limits constraints expressed in my strategy. I must admit, I broke these constraints. But it was for the good of the project! I swear!

My favorite experience on my first drift took place in an upper-class residential area. I had walked for quite some time without hearing any substantial uniqueness. Approaching what I thought could be a great opportunity for sound gathering I armed my microphone and started recording four young boys playing in their front yard. These young boys paid no attention to me, although I am positive they saw me. I was of no concern to them. This free-spirited attitude endeared me to their noisy play. They were willing to be themselves while I listened in, closely inspecting every word they uttered. It reminded me of my childhood and the place I grew up. This connection with the sounds I captured has made this a far more special project than I had ever imagined.

First Soundwalk, First Post

Thank you checking out my research blog. I will be updating this blog with theories and conclusions based on media experiments I conduct.

The first soundwalk I went on was an extremely different experience, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. Those I walked with and I found several places where we could listen intently and observe the sounds around us. A parking garage, a small field of grass, a campus cafeteria. All these places had distinct noises particular to their space. The parking garage was engulfed by an ominous buzz collaborated from the ceiling's dim lights. From the small field, cicadas and crickets could be heard making sharp, piercing screams that almost seemed electric, or mechanical. The cafeteria was a loud busy place where multitudes of conversations melted into one incoherent babble. 

When we moved from place to place the closest noises were those that we made. Note papers crinkling from gusts of wind, rhythmic beats of footsteps, short clicks from pens, key chains and coins dancing in pockets like sleigh bells. Leaves, crushed beneath our feet, and then scraped again by shoes refusing to leave the cement mid-stride. Though somewhat distracting, the sounds made by us the walking, and were very hard to prevent. 

An interesting experiment we did was observing noise with our ears and, afterwards, our eyes covered. With our ears plugged I could mainly hear the very loudest noises like booming diesel bus engines or nearby car horns. I could also hear the nearest noises, although very faint, because they were inside of me. I could hear myself breathing, my heart keeping pace, and my thoughts more clearly. My mind was primarily attempting to make up for the common noises around me that I couldn't hear. I was replacing sounds I saw, like people talking, walking, cars driving far away, or the wind blowing through the trees, with what I could only guess they sounded like from memory. I've connected the experience to something near "getting a song stuck in your head".  You hear the noise in your thoughts even though the song isn't physically playing because you remember what it sounds like. The reverse happened when I covered my eyes. I could hear the physical noises, and replaced them with visions of what I could imagine them actually being caused from. 

While we walked I kept a constant record of what I heard, limited only to how fast I could write. I plan on scanning these pages and posting them in the near future (once I can get a working scanner) mainly because the poor penmanship and scribblings amuse me. For now, however I'll give you a few legible samples of the text. 

Bug, crickets chirping ( consuming)

Wind rushing through trees

Uncomprehendible chit chat

One-way, two-way, three-way convos

"Tumor or tutor?"

Planes, jets, screaming overhead, trailing off

Car engines starting

Text books being thrown into empty dumpsters

Skateboard violently scraping the cement, gliding over cracks and bumps making distinct pitches

Laughter in the distance bounces off the tall buildings around us

Disruptions, scorning laughs

Kicking rocks into brush

Cars race back and forth like a battle

Conversations I am not a part of

Cars are clean, dirty, liquid, metal, rubber, bouncy, cement, close calls, rhythm of of the different segments of 

cement being plucked by tires like strings of guitars

Of these sounds I could place there were many I could not. Loud noises in the distance, mostly bangs or booms, were

able to elude my memory. I was also able to grasp out farther with my hearing and detect a hum that stuck in my mind

for a very long time. I was only able to detect this noise on the soundwalk and have not been able to find it again.

I can only guess that it is either the accumulated sound of the city or a sound I produced in my head of the collective 

memories I've created. Perhaps every horrible song that I ever "got stuck in my head" all jammed together. Creepy.

Wind effected the soundwalk experiment in a very huge way. The wind distorted everything you heard by the directing it

was blowing and the position of your ear. If the wind was blowing directly into my ear that was all I heard. If it came

from behind or in front of me and passed by it changed the noises I heard, like blowing over the top of a glass bottle.

This new experience I've taken a part of has changed my views on noise. I'm more aware of what is around me. Even 

sitting here blogging this I can hear the city outside my window. The cars streaming down the street, victorious yells of

rowdy football fans, the hum of buildings and traffic in the distance. I am now more aware, and therefore more able to 

shape the way I create the medium of sounds.