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  artists
:: Jeph Jerman : excerpts from the sound diary
 oct.
22, 99
..(from oracle az)...this morning during breakfast
i recorded some bees in some flowering bushes (snakeweed?), on a
hill above the main house. windy. at night there are crickets...and
an almost full moon. i can hear no traffic, save the occasional,
sporadic local vehicle, and very few planes. today i listened to
the music of the horses for about half an hour, joining in with
them on some rusted horseshoes in an old wheelbarrow i found to
hand...
oct. 24, 99
...the crickets are incredibly loud here at night,
but i'm positive it's because i am enclosed by plastic tent walls,
instead of my usual sturdy house walls. the rhythm seems the same
everywhere. there is always a constant "drone" of massed
background chirps, overlaid with individuals who chirp together,
but in differing tempos, so that the various cricket groups separate
and come together in a wave or oblong loop.
oct. 25, 99
...took another walk later. down a hillside just
across from the main house. the trail wound downhill through catclaw
and manzanita trees, and yucca and agave, sotol and lechuguilla.
saw many downed agave stalks...at one point i saw a rock shaped
so much like a chair that i had to sit in it. i tried to stop thinking
while seated there, almost in the middle of a large manzanita. at
one point, for a split second, i did, and the tree's blood-red riot
of twisting branches was only a flow of energy. or rather, two "flows"
the hill running down and the manazanita pushing up. i had a similar
experience in sycamore canyon while recording the water....
staring "at nothing", in the general direction
of the water, i tried to clear my mind, and for a short time i saw
not water flowing over rocks but a "group of flows", a
collection of light and different shades and intensities. i forgot
"rock" and "water" and "me".
i kept waking up at different times last night and i noticed
that the crickets sounded different each time. at one point their
chirping was extremely "crackly", like static, or maybe
their legs were becoming fatigued. just before sunrise, they stopped
altogether. it's extra quiet here in the morning.
oct. 29, 99
"If there is magic on this planet, it
is contained in water"
Loren
Eiseley
"The finest workers in stone are not copper
or steel tools but the gentle touches of air and water working at
their leisure with a liberal allowance of time."
Henry
Thoreau
idea: make cell phone calls from remote locations
in the desert, making sure that the calls get recorded on the recieving
end. they would consist of quotes from various people, pertaining
to the land, and or perception of and place in it. mix these recorded
cell phone calls with recordings of the places themselves.
worked most of today and yesterday on making chimes from
the plants collected at C.O.D.
eolian = wind-blown
have decided for now that birds do possess conscioussness,
or awareness, but are not inclined to waste their energy on petty
vengences. these feelings of having attention focused on me are
but the machinations of ego. i got shit on because i happened to
be there at that time. indeed, if birds were shitting on people
as a away of taunting us or punishing us, wouldn't they be doing
it constantly? maybe not. the workings of the intellect are indeed
worthless, in light of no problems needing solution and no crises
seeking resolution.
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