Listen to the Light, Watch the Sound
Walking in the footsteps of my dog and thinking with Triggs, Irwin, and Leggo’s (2014) writing in their article, Walking art: Sustaining ourselves as art educators, I contemplate their words and a desire emerges. A wish to know how joining the fluidity of the universe and listening to the light feels like, and how the experience of walking relates to the tension of becoming and the notion of “[w]alking with all of our relations.” (Triggs et al., 2014, p. 29). Entering the park, where different terrains compose the reality, I look to the east, checking on the source of light as unknown sounds erupt out from the darkness violently crushing into me. I listen with my eyes to the light rays’ messages as they communicate the environment into my retinas, sensing the light trying to break through the atmosphere and banish the darkness to another part of the world. I keep to the path, anxiously wondering if the light has enough messengers so early in the morning to deliver all the messages the universe is sending within this small park. Will the weak early morning light be equipped enough to communicate with all the thirsty eyes of the looming obstacles and unseen corners held within the park?
Oban decides to veer from the path. I intently scan the terrain for any obstacles, not trusting the weak light rays to manage the task-
but,
wait a second,
a sound reaches my ears, it is the sound of my walking feet conversing with the frozen ground.
The walking feet and paws crunch the glittering layer of ice which adorns the stiff grass. The source of light is growing steadily, illuminating the woven carpet on the ground. The warm hues of amber, orange, and yellow leaves send warm sparks into the air, as the light rays capture and share the glint of the leaves’ icicle veneer. The sound is traveling through the air, waves upon waves joined by light waves, removing the burden off my shoulders and weaving it into the light and sound waves in an early freezing morning.
Reference:
Triggs, V., Irwin, R. L., & Leggo, C. (2014). Walking art: Sustaining ourselves as arts educators. Visual Inquiry, 3(1), 21–34. https://doi.org/10.1386/vi.3.1.21_1