Drift One Assessment

1) The first situation that aggravated me on my first drift was when I was asked to leave the golf course because I was a nuisance and “distracting the players.” I was totally taken aback, and looking back on the event, I believe they just wanted me out of their way. I was walking along the path, not in anybodies way, with my recorder in my pocket with headphones on my head and holding the mics.

Another situation that stressed me out and took me by surprise during the drift was the instances when I couldn’t find any usable sounds for copious amounts of time. I understand that the drifts take time, and patience is key, but at times time was not on my side, and my patience was wearing thin. In time, I got some sounds, and I felt like I had won the lottery, and that those moments made the drift worth while.

2) The first situation that I felt unusually peaceful was when I was under the bridge by the Lake Park Golf Course. The night before it had rained, and everything was still wet. I went under the bridge expected to throw rocks to capture the echo sound they created, but had to tie my shoe first. As I was tying my shoe I stopped midway through my right foot, and had one of those “Oh my gosh” moments. If I hadn’t stopped to tie my shoe, I wouldn’t have been able to hear the different rhythms created by the numerous water drips. I set up my recorder, leaned up against the wall and closed my eyes. I was able to tone out the world and be one with my surrounds under a bridge of all places.

Another situation when I felt unusually peaceful was when I was recording a bird feeder. At this location, I had to wait particularly long for the birds to come back to the feeder, but the time was well spent. As I sat next to a tree, I heard all the birds communicating with each other. With the different birds and their languages I was amazed and full of wonder at this simple feat ignored everyday. Just like the phrase “take time to smell the roses,” one must also take time to hear the birds.

3) One surprise that I encountered was how nervous I got with the mics in my hands and headphones on my head. I kept telling myself that people would think I was listening to my iPod, but throughout the drift I was self conscious and afraid to ask people if I could record them. In time I did break out of my shell and it worked in my favor.

The second surprise I met with was when I was listening through my sounds on the computer. This may seem stupid, but hearing the sounds I had recorded gave me a sense of accomplishment. I loved the feeling of being able to recollect and paint an image in my mind from the sounds I collected. For some sounds, I remembered exactly where I was, but for others, such as me walking through the leaves in the suburbs, I pictured myself in different states and painted pictures of different surroundings in my mind.

The third thing that was unexpected was how out of touch I became with reality, and truly was able to “drift.” During the walk, I knew which general direction I was going in, but it didn’t hit me the distance I traveled until I made my Google Map. I was in awe at how I was able to cover so much ground and not be aware of it. Losing my sense of spatial relations was a nice change, and opened my eyes to many new places in the vicinity of UWM and surrounding suburbs.

4) As said in question 2, my most favorite place I went through on the drift was the bridge I found and went under. In the time since my drift was completed, I still find myself going back, sitting down, and closing my eyes. This place has become a sanctuary of sorts, where I can escape reality and leave my troubles elsewhere. Sitting there, so many sounds can be heard, but you feel that the world has stopped and is taking a breather. I honestly don’t know why this location has left such a lasting impression on me, but I can venture a guess as to why. I lived in the country (Door County) for the last 7 years, and I think this great getaway in the heart of the city brings together both of my worlds, giving me the best of both worlds.