Then, about sixteen minutes into recording, I notice a faint gurgling, like the last remnants of water disappearing down a plug hole. The sound getting slowly louder and more distinct, until it reaches a point where I hear it close enough for me to be worried about the safety of the hydrophones and my recorder, to which they are securely attached.

Working with, rather than against, the natural affordances of the mind-body and the soundscape, moves the practice of contemplative field recording in the direction of connection, flexibility and freedom, “…to simply do exactly what we are doing, to do it wholly and selflessly, spontaneously and without any separation from it.”

Finding myself in Paris exactly 50 years after Georges Perec, it felt like a timely opportunity to follow in his footsteps.

In Part II, drawing parallels with listening at the hospital, I want to move out into the soundscape, then explore expansive awareness.

In this post, I’d like to explore a vital orientation in contemplative field recording, that of care-full listening.