Sounds from Germany

In theme with exploring my environment through isolated senses, I recently received a recorder in the mail with an attached note:

To Sarita,

So that your footsteps can be heard.



Dusseldorf, a lonely place in the winter has shown potential this spring. Providing a rebirth of its plants and animals, the city buzzes with new smells, sounds, and activity. Throughout the coming weeks, in bridging time and space, I will gather the sounds of my daily interactions, in hopes of pulsating life into the fantasised  images by those in which my heartstrings are attached to around the globe.

On my way to the store to pick up goodies, I climb down 4 flights of wooden stairs in a building built in the late 1800’s. Sliding my palm down the curling rail, I open the door letting its hinges creak shut. Out the front and onto the open streets of Dusseldorf, my 4$ riding boots bought in New Mexico carry me to the nearby store for a chat with Mr. Beard as he tells me about his favourite sounds – Bootleg jeans swishing their cuffs against each other.

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