I really miss singing sometimes. I don’t miss the listening back, the (often) feeling of worthlessness of it all ; the difference between the feeling as you sang, the imagination of what it was and what it now is.
But I still do it all the same.
Author: peter wyeth
10 2019
October, gateway to Autumn proper. Turning leaves, now falling.
But yet such chaos all around us. What will we notice in the clamour of it all? Possibly nothing.
Take care.
x
09 2019
Early September myself and Lee Allatson played out as a duo again. This time we tried a more song orientated approach leaving large spaces to fill out the room space as we found it. Above is one those moments.
I was hesitant to include my nervous spoken ramblings but decided to share any way. It’s not something I often do and it’s easy to be critical after the fact but then and there, when you are trying to think about it, the words just come out so. It was a great evening all round.
Please do check out some of Lee’s other work including the incredible Ka Safar
08 2019
07 2019
Back in the afternoons, wandering around the garden. I am very fond of Anglesey.
06 2019
I have hearing back in my left ear. Everything became suddenly brighter and too loud. Like a waking and/or a remembering. Here are some Walkman recorded and bowed guitars
05 2019
It’s the end of May. I can still here virtually nothing out of my left ear (currently). My house is still mostly a building site (currently). But below is the sound of the walk from Ophthalmology at the Leicester Royal Infirmary to the ground floor.
04 2019
It’s April. I appear to have lost the bulk of my hearing in my left ear (currently). My house is literally a building site (currently). Elastic bands and contact mics is about the best that I can manage.
03 2019
March has been long and at times really quite hard. These overlapping strands feel like the absent minded shading-ins where my mind has been ‘elsewhere’ when it should have been ‘there’. I guess this is me looking back at them and thinking ‘what was that?’
02 2019
The second of my ‘trying to make a thing a month’. I went away to Norfolk for a few days in February and took my recorder and some contact mics (that I’ve never used before) with me to try and record some of the sounds of the reeds and the marshes. I love the sound of the reeds swaying in the wind, that ‘whooooosssshhhhhhh’. I’ve always wanted to walk into the middle of it crouch down and listen – except you can’t really do that as it can be quite dangerous.
Instead I attached mics to wires, flung the Zoom into the reeds and grasses, generally hung 25 metres back from my family as they walk ahead, me just staring at whatever was around me. My recorder’s headphone out doesn’t work so I have no idea what I have recorded until I empty it out on the computer. It’s a little like film photography, it’s always a surprise.
