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.

Kisses,

Karsten

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.

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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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