Author: amy

7. All Over but the Shoutin’

May 19, 2015 / amy

“It was a good moment, the kind you would like to press between the pages of a book, or hide in your sock drawer, so you could touch it again.”
― Rick Bragg, All Over But the Shoutin’

Black Warrior River, Tuscaloosa, AL

I think that what Rick Bragg is talking about here, is a spot of time. I had so many moments during my time in Alabama and Gulf Shores that I wish I could press between the pages of a book, to keep forever and revisit when I needed something to remind me of the beautiful things in the world. Spots of time.

One of these spots of time was the first and only evening that we spent it Gulf Shores. Laura’s family friends moved there after retirement and were so excited to show is around. I was the only who had never been there before. I am a beach lover, I have never lived more than ten minutes away from the beach and I was still in awe of how flawless the beaches were. Bright white, sandy beaches, bright blue water and bight blue skies. Maybe I have over-used this phrase, but it was like nothing I had ever seen before. I will include some pictures of the beach, and of our sunset boat ride, but I can assure you that pictures do not do it justice.

Sunset on the Florida, Alabama state line.

After dinner that night, we went to a famous bar/music venue called “Flora-Bama”. I’ve been hearing about this place for two years, so it was with great anticipation that I walked into this warehouse of a bar. We walked through a gift shop into a dimly lit, open area. You could smell the ocean and see the sand. There was a 90’s cover band finishing out there set. We kept walking until we ended up in another large, dimly lit room where a classic rock band was playing. This room had a dance floor with a pretty good crowd. I was the youngest person in the room by about 20 years, but I was assured that was because it was a Sunday night during off-season. This whole bar is covered in graffiti from various college football players, and rival college students. Room after room, band after bad; again it was like nothing I’d ever seen or experienced before. I could only imagine what it was like during spring break. The next morning we took a boat to a restaurant called “Tacky Jack’s” where I had the most amazing shrimp and grits for breakfast. As I sat there, right on the water – I kept thinking “how is this my life?”.

Daniel, Laura and Me at Flora-Bama

Gulf Shores

So many country songs mention “where the blacktop ends”. I found this place in Tuscaloosa, Alabama. We were driving along and suddenly the road turned into rust colored dirt. For miles and miles we drove on a bright orange dirt road – the color contrasted by the blue sky and setting sun. The trees that lined the road were much shorter than the ones here, but are full, bright and beautiful all the same. We drove up to the tiny house on the river, the sun was just kissing the sky goodbye – there were flowers, candles, and the smell of a delicious fried chicken dinner in the air. We had arrived to the Metcalf’s river side oasis. My roommate/travel companion, Laura’s parents showed us the most genuine southern hospitality. We spent three days eating home cooked meals, and learning what it’s like to live in the south. We were introduced to people who had lived in Tuscaloosa their whole lives. Their parents had, their parents parents had. The culture was radically different than what I grew up knowing. One of the days we were there, we took a tour of the University of Alabama and got to meet some of Laura’s family. In 2011, there was a severe tornado in the city of Tuscaloosa that killed 64 people, and destroyed so much of the town. Almost everyone we met on that trip mentioned something of it, whether it was recalling the day of the tragedy, or rebuilding of the elementary school down the road. Much like New Orleans, people of Tuscaloosa have turned to music to encourage, morn and process the loss and devastation.

During our time on the river, I read a book called “All Over but the Shoutin’” by Rick Bragg. Rick Bragg was one of Laura’s professors when she was a student at the University of Alabama, and the cousin of her God-father. Laura suggested his nonfiction books to me because his writing is honest, and true to his life growing up as a poor white boy. He recalls with deep revere about his mother, and her strength raising three children by herself. It’s hard not to read this book without hearing his deep southern drawl in your mind. I sat for two days on the Black Warrior river, listening to the sounds of birds, barges and laughter while I read this book. It gave my imagination a break – as I felt like I was already in the setting.

In a lot of ways, his book reminded me of the writing I am doing now, with these blogs – really just recalling and processing real life events; a memoir. In my next post, I will work hard to synthesis all of these experiences and touch more on the connections I have made between history, city, rural and urban sounds. For now, I think it’s important to just remember and reflect on my experiences. While I know this program is not about making value statements on the places we traveled to; I’m going to come right out and say it. I love Alabama. I love all of the people I met, I love how rich in history the city of Tuscaloosa is, I love how different the trees and landscape is, and I love that I didn’t eat a single vegetable the entire time I was there. Everything was different, and beautiful and I would go back tomorrow If I had the opportunity.

6. The City Underwater

May 12, 2015 / amy

This time last week, I was sitting outside of a McDonald’s (for the free wifi) writing my post, anxious to get to catch the sunset at the little cabin on the river that I would call home for the next three days. Now and I am back home in Olympia, feeling like the trip was a lifetime ago. It’s funny how that works. I think I owe that feeling to the 48 hour drive home. Before I get into the details of the days spent in New Orleans and Alabama, I wanted to take some time to process the travel aspect of my trip. There is something unique about road trips. Driving into a city – especially a city that is across the country – gives you context. Cities made more sense to me after driving through the state, and I was able to make more sense of my trip during those long hours in the car. Because the actual time spent in the different cities was sandwiched between four days of driving, it all blurred together Even after being home for a few days, every time somebody asks me how my trip was I seem to come up with a different answer. I anticipated spending this week processing, collecting all of my data and getting back into the swing of things – and I’m glad I did because it has proven to be necessary.

Pontalba Building

Fritzel’s European Jazz Club

I am still amazed and grateful for how smooth the whole trip was. We all got along well, the only car troubles we had involved layers of splattered bug carcasses on the grill, and we managed to hit 17 states total! My car has 5,000+ more miles on it, we are all still friends, and I am in desperate need of a car wash. It’s good to be back.

The happiest travelers patiently awaiting beignets!

Flashback one week; We were driving into the French Quarter, music off and windows down. I think I said things along the lines of “Wow! The smells! Whoa, look at these houses! This is crazy…I’ve never seen anything like this. *silence while we drive by a street jazz band* “Is this real??” And yes, I probably said all of those things out loud, unable to hold my excitement. A spot of time, I believe – the moment where all of the research, day dreaming, preparing, planning, and anticipation became my reality. I think that was one of the few moments during my time in NO that that I felt immersed as opposed to being an outsider or an observer. After the beignets, we walked up to the water. We stood over looking Jackson Square, the water behind us, the city below us. Another spot of time. Jackson Square is lined with these gates that locals use to hang their art to sell – almost every art piece I saw was so loud and colorful. One artist’s work was charcoal sketches of birds that reminded me of home. I regret that I didn’t ask where the artist was from. The city is loud, crowded and smelly. Sometimes the smells are pleasant, like when you were passing a restaurant or in a well kept bar. Most of the time it was one whiff of hot garbage after the next.

Jackson Square

The crowd of people was diverse, to say the least. Even though we spent most of our time on Bourbon street and in the French Quarter – there were more than tourists. It wasn’t too difficult to pick out the locals. One of the first places we went to is called Pat O’Brien’s – home of the hurricane. This place has been around since 1933 – when Pat O’Brien himself converted his speakeasy to a legitimate drinking establishment at the end of the prohibition era. The building itself was gorgeous – old staircases leading up to the restrooms (where there is someone to hand you a paper towel after you dry your hands) and my favorite part, the piano bar. We walked in to a dimly lit room, with a stage, tables and chairs. The stage had two huge pianos covered in copper and two even bigger mirrors mounted on the wall that allowed the audience to see the piano player’s hands. Something that felt different to me – in every live music experience that I had while I was in the south – was that the music was not just being created to entertain, rather it was created to tell a story. I felt that especially while I was in Alabama – but I will elaborate on that in my next post.

We went from bar to bar listening to live music, chatting with other visitors, stopping along the way to listen to street bands and performers. We ate jambalaya, gumbo, fried catfish po’boys and fried alligator for lunch. We spent a couple of hours standing on a balcony just watching – listening and talking about what were were seeing. If you love people watching as much as I do, I highly suggest visiting New Orleans.I talked a little bit about Fritzel’s Jazz club in my last post. We were immediately drawn in to this place – it was not nearly as crowded as the other bars we’d been to that day. We found seats really close to the stage and listened to The Red Hot Brass Band play for over an hour. We even closed out our tab and walked out the door at one point and as soon as we stepped out of the club we all decided to just go back in and wait for the band to finish the set because we were enjoying it so much – it didn’t matter what else we might be missing out on. We ended the night at a restaurant where I noticed that our waiter sounded more like us than other people we had talked to that day. Sure enough, when I asked him where he was from he told me that he was from Enumclaw, WA and by the end of the conversation we realized that we had a mutual friend. He even told us that we was once enrolled at TESC before he decided to move to New Orleans. The more of the world I see, the smaller it seems.

5. Oh, When the Saints Go Marching In

May 4, 2015 / amy

3,177 miles later, we have arrived to our final destination; Tuscaloosa, Alabama. We left Olympia around 12:30am Thursday morning. I woke up to the sun rising over grassy hills somewhere in eastern Oregon. It didn’t take us long to realize that 48 hours of straight driving, with four people was not going to be an easy task. However, we were all in high spirits by the time we made it to Idaho. I am grateful that I took notes where ever we went because the actual time we spent in the car feels like a big blur now. I am sitting her question which days we did what! We stopped for lunch in Salt Lake City and walked around the capital building to stretch our legs. I certainly didn’t spend enough time in that city to make statements, but I can say one thing; the traffic was terrible and we were excited to get out.

We stopped for dinner in Moab, Utah – we had hoped to make it to Arches National Park by sunset but the sun was down before we got there. I was really looking forward to revisiting this ‘spot of time’ that I mentioned before, at the same time of day, so I was pretty disappointed that it was dark when we arrived. After di

Our ‘Bon Voyage’ picture.

nner I got us to New Mexico before I had to finally switch drivers. During that time – when I was driving, and everyone was asleep (or at least trying to), I had time to reflect on how I can in
corporate the travel with the time I spend at each destination. Each state is different – the smells, the color of the trees, the size of the trees, the type of stores and restaurants, and the way people drive, to the music played on the radio stations. There is so much to take in, to notice and to process – especially because I’m not sending a lot of time in these places just a traveler passing through. I noticed that I was overwhelmed by the vastness of each place. I began to doubt my ability to be an observant traveler, and quickly remembered that I brought myself on this trip – and there’s nothing I can do about that.

We stopped for breakfast in New Mexico where I made a point of ordering green chilies in my omelet. At this point in our trip – we weren’t even pretending to have had enough sleep. We took some time to freshen up in the restaurant bathroom and started again on our way. We drove through New Mexico, Texas and made it really far into Louisiana (of course, stopping for the best barbeque I’ve ever had in my life for dinner) before we decided to stay at a hotel in Alexandria, LA. We need sleep, we longed for a shower and a place to stretch our legs but we did not want to deal with the madness of the French Quarter just yet.

The next morning, I woke up feeling like a new person – with a full night’s sleep, a shower and a hot breakfast I was giddy with anticipation as we drove a few more hours into New Orleans. Louisiana in the day time is so gorgeous – the trees are green and like nothing I’d ever seen before, and because it is almost all swamp, the whole highway felt like one long bridge. Once we finally got into New Orleans the first thing I noticed was the houses. The architecture is like nothing I have ever seen before – it reminded me of any other city as far as proximity goes, as in the houses are nearly attached to each other. But the colors, and the iron work are unbelievable. As soon as we pulled up to the French Quarter there was a rush of smells and sounds that filled the car – it was so ready to be there and be in it.

Our first stop was Café Du Monde for beignets and coffee. So. Many. Beignets. And zero regrets. After that – it was one street perform after a po’boy. All day long we spent wandering around, listening to music, talking with different performers and visitors. My favorite memory of the night was our time at Fritzel’s European Jazz pub, were we drank bourbon and coke, ate pizza cones and listened to hours of jazz music. Despite the name of the club, the jazz band was made up of 20-somethings from Louisiana playing traditional New Orleans Jazz music. I got the chance to speak with them for a while – they were so friendly and willing to chat. In my next post I plan on going into detail about this day, and my time in gulf shores but for now the sunset on the river is calling my name and I would hate to miss it.

4. Groove Interrupted

April 28, 2015 / amy

The past few weeks I have kept myself occupied with planning, reading, reflecting, tire and oil changes and listening to a lot of jazz music. Now the time has finally come – tomorrow night we begin this excursion through the south. All of us on the trip have been assigned jobs – because we are taking my car, I was in charge of making sure it’s in good condition to drive across the country and back. Daniel is in charge of making CD’s (yes, I still use CD’s) and he’s sleeping all day tomorrow to take the first leg of the drive. I’m putting Rachel in charge of the snacks and since Laura is our host once we make it to the south she’s off the hook. Our original plan was to stay in a hotel on Bourbon Street – but we collectively decided to spend our money elsewhere and stay just outside of the French Quarter. We have some concrete plans for once we get there but I’ll write more about once we’ve arrived. I’m giddy with anticipation – so much so that I’m listening to Henry Allen as I write this blog entry and am unsure of the amount of sleep I will get tonight.

In addition to the logistics of car safety, packing and planning – this past week I read “Groove Interrupted” by Keith Spera. Spera captures both the elation and the heartbreak of post-Katrina New Orleans through the stories of some of the city’s best musicians. Aaron Neville returns to New Orleans for the first time after Hurricane Katrina to bury his wife. Fats Domino improbably rambles around Manhattan to promote a post-Katrina tribute CD. Alex Chilton lives anonymously in a battered cottage in the Treme neighborhood. Platinum-selling rapper Mystikal rekindles his career after six years in prison. Jazz trumpeter Terence Blanchard struggles to translate Katrina into music. The spotlight also shines on Allen Toussaint, Pete Fountain, Gatemouth Brown, the Rebirth Jazz Band, Phil Anselmo, Juvenile, Jeremy Davenport and the 2006 New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festival (which just happened this past weekend in NOLA). I felt really inspired by a lot Alex Ross while reading this book and listened to these artists each time they were introduced. I was surprised at how many I had heard before not knowing who they were.

Although my research questions have been changed due to my change in travel plans – there is one question I am still very interested in pursuing and that is how has the history of New Orleans influenced the soundscape of the city? Further – How has the culture, both historically and in present day, influenced the music scene? And finally, what have been the major contributions to shaping the cultural soundscape of the city? This series of questions was inspired by a quote from Alex Ross’ The Rest is Noise “Articulating the connection between music and the outer world remains devilishly difficult. Musical meaning is vague, mutable and, in the end, deeply personal. Still, even if history can never tell us exactly what music means, music can tell us something about history.” (Ross)

Hurricane Katrina was a pivotal moment in the history of New Orleans. The lives of loved ones were lost, homes, occupations – all gone. Everyone in the city was affected. Musicians used music to cope – whether it was to remember the tragedy, to provide hope or to simply escape – the reality is that hurricane Katrina provided an interesting opportunity for the musicians of New Orleans to report out in such a unique and intimate way.

I once took a creative writing class and one of the assignments required that I write a creative piece based off of a picture that was chosen for me. I ended up with a photo revealing the unimaginable devastation of hurricane Katrina. I knew the only way I would be able to write something out of this photo was to go and read real stories of Katrina survivors. I spent hours reading newspaper articles, and excerpts from books. Reading Groove Interrupted exposited a lot of the same devastation but this time, through the lens of music. In a city that’s foundation is built on music, what better way to rebuild it than with music itself?

The more I read about this place, the more magical it has become in mind. I am grateful for de Botton’s humbling words in The Art of Travel. There is a part of me that doesn’t even want to go to New Orleans because I’m afraid of being disappointed by what I find there – that it’ll just be a tourist trap or that it will be so far from what I’ve read about. Thankfully that part is really small and that the season of anticipation is coming to a close. Next time I update this blog, I hope to be saturated in the rich culture of New Orleans. Laissez les bons temps rouler! (or “let the good times roll” in french)

3. Geaux Bama!

April 21, 2015 / amy

Some exciting new developments have taken place the last week and half! Slowly, but surely my trip to New Orleans has evolved into a road trip through the south. My roommate is Alabama born and raised and her parents have a cabin on the river in Tuscaloosa. So myself along with three other people will be driving to New Orleans, making a stop at the gulf, and ending in Alabama. This has been a dream of mine since I can remember – and in just short of two weeks it will be coming true. We will be driving through Oregon, Idaho, Utah, Colorado, New Mexico, Texas, straight into Louisiana. After we stay there a few nights, we will make our way to the gulf shores for a night or two and then up to Alabama.

This change in plans of course, will affect my study questions. If I’m being honest – I am really grateful for that. While New Orleans is rich in history and cultural influence, being able to explore more than just the french quarter is really exciting. I’m excited because this program has challenged me to be an attentive traveler. One that doesn’t just drive through a city, distracted by the radio or my phone, but a traveler that takes the time to observe, to notice, to draw, to see, to hear, to touch, to taste, to smell. My hope is to take note of the contrast between urban and rural soundscapes. Some new questions I will be asking myself: What differences do you notice in urban and rural settings? Similarities? Does one influence the other?

This week, I read an academic journal titled “1/f Noise in Rural and Urban Soundscapes” by B. De Coensel, D. Botteldooren, and T. De Muer

Here’s the summary: “In complex systems, log-log linear relations between appropriate descriptors are quite common. In this paper, the rural and urban soundscape is assumed the voice of a complex system. Self-organized criticality is shown to occur at different levels in this underlying system. The power spectral density of loudness and pitch in recordings of rural and urban soundscapes indeed often follows quite closely to the typical 1/f frequency dependence in many cases. Looking in detail at the data, a breaking point is observed in many of the curves around 0.2 Hz, which corresponds to a period of 5 seconds. It seems logical to associate this to within event and between event sound dynamics. Indicators based on this analysis could be useful for cataloguing soundscape dynamics. By extension of the earlier finding that 1/f noise is quite common in music, labels such as “boring / dull” or “too chaotic / too unpredictable” may even be borrowed to describe soundscape dynamics”

While the authors focus is on 1/f frequency – the article breaks down different aspects of rural and urban sounds – bird song, wind, road traffic, a mixture of urban activities, song and speech. Having these categories will help me to organize my thoughts and will be helpful for me to pay attention to sounds I might not have paid attention to before. This article also touches on the fact that different sounds, with different pitch and frequencies can change the way you hear the sounds. A bird song with a high pitch may be easier for you to notice than the low frequency wind sounds. This is something I’ve been observing in myself over the last few weeks. When listening to music, sometimes all I pay attention to is the lyrics, other times it’s the piano, or the drums. This program has challenged me to pay attention to everything – but as I am going to be exposed to many different sounds in a couple of weeks, I think it is important for me to take note of my raw reactions to sounds. Like de Botton talks about in The Art of Travel, I am bringing myself on this trip and there is not getting around that.

I am also bringing three other people – so here’s where I talk about expectation. I love road trips – I think there is something beautiful about driving to your destination rather than flying. I think it gives context to the places I go. The deep south is different than the northwest. You don’t need me to tell you that. The food is different, the weather is different, the dialect is different, the people are different, and the music is different. I know these things because of research that I’ve done – reading articles and books and talking to people that have been there or lived there. With these things in mind – I want to let go of them as much as possible to allow myself and the people round me to have as much of an authentic experience as possible.

2. There are in our existence spots of time…

April 7, 2015 / amy

“There are in our existence spots of time,

That with distinct pre-eminence retain

a renovating virtue…

That penetrates, enables us to mount,

When high, more high, and lifts us up when fallen”

– William Wordsworth

Last spring I went on a road trip with my Mother. The only thing we were sure of was that we had 5 days to get to New Mexico. My grandmother had just finished the third of her book series and was hosting a book launch in Albuquerque. However, a phone call leading up to the trip revealed that both my mother and I were struggling in our day-to-day lives at home, and needed a reason to get up in the morning. The reason we took the trip was because we had been in a funk, and needed a change of scenery. Looking back on it now, my motives for traveling were very personal. Once we were on the road, it didn’t take us long to decide that we were going to stop in Moab, Utah to watch the sunset over Arches National Park (I took the photo above about an hour before sunset). I was noticeably uncomfortable driving through Utah. That is, until we reached Moab. As soon as we entered the park, I felt a overwhelming sense of relief – I had found what I was looking for, a ‘spot of time’. We drove through the arches with the windows down, the scene was sound tracked with under the breath “wows” and sighs. I took some pictures, but once the sun started to set I put away my camera and my phone so to capture the moment as best I could. We went on a small hike and found a perfect spot to sit and watch the sunset. As badly has I wanted to push against Wordsworth’s romanticism of nature, this moment kept coming to my mind. I’ve tried to put into words what I experienced that evening many times, and my mother and I still talk about it. Maybe was the feeling of being apart of something so much greater than myself, or maybe it was seeing how vast and beautiful the world is – and how small my life is in comparison. I had brought myself with me on that trip and in that moment I was able to let go of that. It was a spiritual experience that I won’t soon forget.

Nature has a way of inserting itself into our consciousness – I’m not sure why I can remember that scene in Moab more vividly than I can remember important life events like my high school graduation, or birthdays. Something about that scene makes its way to the forefront of my mind when I need it. “Wordsworth urges us to travel through landscapes in order to feel emotions that may benefit our souls. I set out for the desert so as to be made to feel small” (157) de Botton recognizes the link between ‘sublime’ landscapes and God. “It is as if these landscapes allowed travelers to experience transcendent feelings that they no longer felt in cities and the cultivated countryside. The landscapes offered them an emotional connection to a greater power, even as they freed them of the need to subscribe to the more specific and now less plausible claims of biblical texts and organised religions.” (169) I think it is true hat nature humbles our souls, I think it is true that when we are standing near a mountain – we are reminded of our smallness. I also believe that one can feel that same smallness standing in the midst of the city bustle. The difference is that in a city, everyone as something to be doing – a purpose. Next to a mountain, or gazing at the sun setting on vibrant orange structures of nature, the only thing you can do is see, notice, and reflect. That is something you can’t find anywhere else. “Nature was an indispensable corrective to the psychological damage inflicted by life in the city” (Wordsworth, 134)

In these weeks leading up to my trip, I think it is important for me to reflect on these notions. Later on the The Art of Travel de Botton introduces the philosophy of Ruskin, an artist whose value for drawing I found to be refreshing. During the sketching workshop last week, I felt so frustrated by the fact that I was unable to capture the beauty of the trees – and the stark contrast between concrete and forest. After reading this, I realized that my purpose for sketching was motivated by my desire to possess beauty, rather than notice it. This affected my ability to pay attention to details, and to understand what I was looking at. Ruskin says “My efforts are directed not to making a carpenter an artist, but to making him happier as a carpenter.” So, it is okay that I am not an expert at drawing, it is okay that I am not an expert at seeing – but I believe these ideas are going to greatly impact my ability to make the most of my time in New Orleans, and will challenge me to look deeper and longer and to really notice.

1. The Art of Travel

April 1, 2015 / amy

“If we are inclined to forget how much there is in the world besides that which we anticipate, then works of art are perhaps a little to blame, for in them we find a work the same process of simplification or selection as in the imagination, artistic accounts involved severe abbreviations of what reality will force upon us.” – Alain De Botton

Four years ago I traveled to Kauai as a graduation gift from my grandparents. If I am being completely honest, I was not all that excited about the trip. It wasn’t that I was ungrateful, but more that I felt like I knew exactly what I could expect from a vacation to Hawaii. White sandy beaches, drinking out of coconuts, Luaus and tropical fish. All of which are things I was looking forward to, but there was a serious lack of anticipation. After a delayed flight, and switching of planes my best friend and I were ready to get off of the plane. We were met by my grandparents, both dressed in Hawaiian prints – with beautiful lei’s ready to put around our necks. My grandpa had rented a jeep with us in mind. The first thing I noticed about the island was that it smelled like flowers. The weather was balmy but fresh, and I could hear the waves from the airport parking lot. It was in that moment when I realized why there are so many, movies, photos and paintings of this place. Hawaii was like something I would imagine in a dream. As soon as we got to the resort I had my first ever “pinch me” moment. The view from the balcony was unlike anything I’d seen in real life, and was more beautiful than any picture or painting. From then on, I was in utter bliss. I experienced so much joy in things as simple as walking to the convince store – because everything was so pleasant and I had not expected that to be the case. This quote from De Botton reminded me of that experience. I hadn’t allowed myself to anticipate anything new before my trip because I let the simplification of others experiences do that work. This experience taught me a lot about expectation, and as I plan to travel to a new city that I have heard a lot about, I plan to make note of my expectations and continue to revisit them throughout my trip.

While my Kauai story turned out to be a beautifully pleasant surprise – I doesn’t always work that way. De Botton touches on the concept of disappointment in the first chapter of The Art of Travel. It i true that with expectation often comes disappointment. I don’t believe that it’s because the world is a disappoint place but rather we let our imagination hinder what reality offers. De Botton writes “The present might be compared to a long-winded film from which anticipation selects photographic highlights.” As I reflected on these notions that this book suggests, I got to thinking – What things will stand out to me in New Orleans? What will I take the time to write about in detail? What will I find important or significant? and Why? What will I leave out? For a while I was in a creative writing program at Evergreen. My professor insisted that we always keep a notebook and a pen within arms reach. After the first week of recording every single seemingly insignificant thought or idea, it became apparent to me how fleeting my thoughts are. And every time I sat down to write, I could open that book. It’s like an all access pass to your own brain, and it proved to be a terrifying but beautiful tool. De Botton, in his writing, reflects on his traveling experiences with such vivid detail. He writes about things like the barbecue on the veranda, that had seemingly no significance, but for some reason he chose to write about it. And it’s details like that, that really put you in a place. I want that for my writing this quarter. I want to record every thought, idea, or question. I want to draw litter in alley ways if that’s what captures my attention – and I want to do it without immediately questioning why, but rather make space to reflect later on. The more I give myself to reflect on, the more I will learn. I am going to practice getting in the swing of this intense recording for the weeks leading up to my trip with hopes of it being a less distracting tool during my time in the city. I look forward to revisiting this book while I’m in New Orleans.

Before I leave

February 2, 2015 / amy

“Articulating the connection between music and the outer world remains devilishly difficult. Musical meaning is vague, mutable, and, in the end, deeply personal. Still, even if history can never tell us exactly what music means, music can tell us something about history.”

– The Rest is Noise, Ross

Click here to view the embedded video.

The thing about New Orleans is that it is so rich in history, architecture, food, people, and music. The streets are steeped in a history of influences from Europe, the Caribbean, Africa and more. The more research I do on this city, the more excited I am to immerse myself in the soundscape of a new place. As I investigate the influence of music in this city, I expect to listen to a lot of live music, all over the city. I plan to walk into every music venue that I come across, taking note of the what the music tells me about the history of New Orleans. This investigation is not about objective listening, in fact I’m not quite sure that exists, but it is about listening and really hearing – allowing myself to hear the parts and the details, in constant search for something I haven’t heard before – working to identify the origin of the sounds.

I’ve dreamt of visiting New Orleans for years. I love jazz, I love food, and I love going to places that are different than what I know. New Orleans embodies all of the above. I am going to be transparent when I say that I am going into this dream with a lot of expectation. I have a pre-conceived idea of what I think the city is going to look like, sound like, taste like and even smell like. I am not worried that I am going to disappointed, but I think it is really important for me to be taking note of my expectations and how they affect my experience throughout the trip. Being aware of what I am bringing to this new experience will help me to set them aside and be present. I am fortunate to have a roommate who is from the south. She has hooked me up with a few of her college friends who have offered me a place to stay and a tour of the city. I am really grateful to have some guidance from people who know the city well!

In light of being able to spend some time with locals – I thought it would be great to spend some time volunteering in the area. I found a really awesome organization whose mission is to engage, empower, and transform our community through volunteer service. This organization has various volunteer opportunities each month varying from reading to second graders to rebuilding community centers. I feel especially excited about this part of my trip because I have always had a deep passion for community, and I believe that there is much to be learned from spending time around people who have had different life experiences than your own. This organization is excited hosting out of state volunteers and sharing life with them for as long as they are willing to stay. I won’t be needing the hosting services, but I am really looking forward to working with and meeting new people.

I was not at all surprised to discover the handful of musical festivals happening during my trip. It is almost as if the answers to my questions are being handed to me with some of these festivals! I am most excited about the Jazz and Heritage Festival – its purpose is “To promote, preserve, perpetuate and encourage the music, arts, culture and heritage of communities in Louisiana through festivals, programs and other cultural, educational, civic and economic activities.” The line-up is pretty incredible and I look forward to spending time listening to good music, eating good food, and talking with locals about their experiences living in New Orleans.

Overall, this trip really is a dream come true. I am so excited that this program is going to challenge me to dig deep in my understanding of the city – I won’t just be a tourist, but a student that is eager to listen and to learn. For now, I need to solidify my schedule, get a head start on some literature, and day dream about beignets, jazz and bourbon street.

(Here’s a very tentative itinerary)