DAY TWO-HUNDRED AND THREE
I am here. In my new apartment. I find that every location has its own sounds and character. This place is full of rushing cars, big loud mufflers, buses and taxis that honk for passengers. Even if the passenger is just a pedestrian, they honk anyway – just in case. And today? I can smell, and even feel the exhaust from the cars coming into my window. They idle down there, and, even from the sixth floor, it can get in. But only for a minute, and then it is gone, though the sounds remain.
This new environment has its own set of recording problems. My room faces a busy street in Manhattan. The only time it gets really quiet is at night, but now I have 2 other roommates, so finding a new pattern of living will be challenging.
What you are hearing: This is a soundscape for a full room, not an empty one as we heard earlier. The room is full of things, some of it still in boxes, all over the floor, all over the bed. I had to fit a one bedroom apartment into one single bedroom. Challenging, yes. Impossible? No. Jonathan has put a lot of work into it, and I am grateful. This is the first time I have had roommates since 2004 when I lived in Pittsburgh. It is a whole new set of rule, and one must now be more conscious that one was before… well, if you’re me you do. I am living for four: an unwashed dish doesn’t just affect me or Jonathan, but two others. It is a good thing to experience.
I set the mic closer to the fire escape instead of in the middle of the room. I like that you can hear someone running and even a little in the distance maybe… music? Is that it? Like the last one, I pushed record and closed the door to my room. I walked into the kitchen looking for breakfast. Lacey heard me and followed. She thinks she will get something, too. No. I look into the fridge, and, finding it disappointing, I grab the peanut butter, open my rice cakes and make myself something. Anything. I walk back into the room, ask Lacey to sit as she is now begging me to have some, too. She loves peanut butter. And though I am right next to the mic, I am drowned out by the bus outside the window.
The Living Room