Today was characterised by the sounds of wind: through the cracks in the windows, the rattling of the flag poles, and the last day of Christmas lights from eaves and trees. And also by the feel of the wind- walking headlong, the small gritty bits of snow, the obstinate force of it.
Things did not go to plan so much but unexpected events included:
- a short interview with people working in the library
- finding a choir of children to record singing Icelandic songs
- getting the address of the church minister to ask about using the church in my work (then visiting but finding no one home)
- listening to the ice on the beach
- buying an attractive capsicum
I’m starting to think about my project and the tentative name is: Why do the ducks not fly south? But, it could also reference the herrings. At the moment I’ve been doing a lot of sound recordings and listening in these spaces. Today, as I struggled to stand in the wind and snow, I realised how ridiculous I must have looked recording the sound of a plastic bag that actually was making no sound.
What I’ve noticed is that outside, there are very few human sounds- just the low hum of machinery, car tyres on the road and the elements. It is quiet with a constant presence of something. There appears to be a distinct separation from the outside world that I see when I walk around to the inside spaces. The most frequented of these are the supermarket swimming pool and the cafe.
I’ve made a rough map with certain points but the actual content needs to be a bit more based around the locations and what kind of material these might present. I need a starting point. From there it will proceed to a single room in the guest house that overlooks the main road and also my apartment. The walk will end at the rescue centre. Obviously walking has its problems in this climate, and the time outside needs to be minimised. The walk will be accompanied by an interactive documentary experience made with Verse- which seems to be a pretty easy platform to use. Well, let’s see!