Blog Post #2: Soundwalk

For my soundwalk, I spent an hour walking around Port Jefferson, a town next to my own on Long Island. Specifically, I walked “down port,” an artsy area of the village that locals (and some tourists) go on weekends and at night to drink (and drink and drink and drink), see art exhibits, and go wine tasting. I will admit I had a tough time just being and listening for an hour, partly because my mind was occupied by an incident that happened a few days prior but also because I realized I've rarely been in tune with my environment without distractions for more than 5 minutes. This experiment forced me to confront “reality” - the non-digital present. One keynote sound I experienced was the constant, steady, and slow flow of traffic on the narrow Main Street: brakes squealing when pedestrians ran across the street (a regular occurrence), the occasional quick beep of a horn. Paired with the traffic was the noise of the people around me. Because of the time (after dark, Friday night), the volume of pedestrians was rather larger, rowdier, and drunker than most times. I found it hard not to tune into conversations – not only because listening was the exercise, but also because much of the conversation on the street was yelling. One girl in particular stuck out at me: she was yelling at her friends for something related to who I assume was the bartender inside. Her voice pierced above everything else for the few minutes I was over there because of the shrill quality; it reminded me of a cartoon mean girl. Another constant I noticed as I got further down towards the ferries was the waves of the LI sound crashing on the docks and shore. I noticed I could tune into this sound more and more and drown out the people on Main Street the closer I was to the docks. There was one boat I heard for a few minutes coming through – slow, marked by its motor and a steadier wave sound. It was pleasant to listen to the waves and I dreaded walking back up Main Street to my car after the hour was done.