ghosts of 1000 crickets

i’ve been thinking a lot about glaciers since your trip to Alaska. And what they might sound like. i reconnected with this almost friend from my art school days, Pierre. And I did not realize that he was one my students when I taught a class in digital sampling. I could not remember that at all. I remember teaching the class. And I remember taking my students on a field trip to the Lyon & Healy harp factory. And I remember bringing “guest artists” into the class each week for the students to record (a singing dog and people with very unusual voices). And I remember that each week when the students played recordings of their work, we would turn the lights off, except for one very dim red light bulb. And I remember the head of the sound department occasionally peaking his head in. And I remember he told he could not tell if I was teaching a class or leading a seance. And I remember not saying, what’s the difference? And then I remember not being re-hired.

So… Pierre takes trips to the Arctic to record the sound of glaciers. And sometime over the winter, when Walden Pond was frozen, Pierre dug a little hole and stuck a microphone through the iceghost into the water.He said the recording sounded like the ghosts of 1000 crickets. I think he said that glaciers might sound the same, very ghost-like but less chirpy.

And I wondered if I he would let me hear his recording of the glaciers and if they would become like a song he can’t get out of your head.

Pierre also recalled how we collaborated on something for WhiteWalls magazine, and how I did the graphics and the layout. And I said how could that be? I had very little if any talent for graphics. He said it was just something I did in those days. Helping people with whatever they needed help with even if I was of no help whatsoever.

And I thought about memory. And the life that other people remember me living which I somehow was not around to experience. maybe memory is just chatter. maybe memory sounds like a thousand glaciers.

maybe i”ve already written to you about this before. maybe I already told you that when I was in the hospital post-bike accident 8 years ago, going in and out of consciousness, heavily sedated by morphine…. my sister tells me she remembers a time when i awakened and I started to give a little talk about string theory, and that it even was informative and made sense. and of course i did not know and I still do not know anything about string theory. i believe there are things that are called strings, but it does not matter whether i believe they exist or not. if people are seeing strings, i have no reason to doubt them.



About The Lost Pedestrian

In my wanderings throughout the moments/days/years, I try in earnest to find the mystical within the mundane and the mundane within the mystical, oftentimes confusing one from the other. I have wandered and roamed through many a city, many a town, in a state of wonder and bewilderment, without necessarily going anywhere. I am easily lost, but eventually found. (I am guessing you have just found me). My sincere hope is that you will find Something in this warehouse of thought, memory and false memory, words, numbers, tangents, murmurs, echoes (lots and lots of echoes), voices, dreams, and other paraphernalia.
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