Sound in the landscapes- the breath of travel

"In the landscape are the voices of the people that got lost. The spirit of the place involves the people that were saying something and it never got heard. That is what one does as a poet. One allows the place to enter your soul and you speak the place. What you speak is the vision. It's the place"  Susan Howe (poet)

Last year, in Autumn, I returned to sing in the caves in New South Wales. The beauty of the green, the drop into the landscape, the coolness, the shift from the broad plains to the mountains. The change in the air and the sensations moving towards these hidden depths. The autumnal leaves as they changed. The sense of returning to the depth of the cave. The familiarity. The stillness. The coolth.
Listening to the birds, the river, the sounds of mother nature. The stories they were telling with their rhythms and their songs. This year, I had a holiday at home, or a "staycation" as some would say. it was enjoyable and deeply memorable. I still listened to the birds and the trees and nature which surrounded me. It was familiar and it was with a sense of return that I travelled inwards.

"Why travel? We need to travel. If we don't offer ourselves to the unknown, our senses dull , our world becomes small and we lose sense of our wonder. Our eyes don't lift to the horizon, our experience is restricted, as we pass our days in routine that is both comfortable and limiting. We wake up one day and we find that we have lost our dreams in order to protect our days.... Sure there will be moments of doubt when you stand alone, on an empty road, in icy rain, or when you are ill with fever in a rented bed. But, as the pains come , so too will they fall away. In the end you will be so much stronger, so much clearer and a so much happier person, that all the risk and hardship will seem like nothing compared to the knowledge you have gained and the life you have lived." Author unknown

Nomadic tribes in times of old would sing as they chartered new lands. The idea of the Songlines is well known amongst the Indigenous Australians. There is something about the spirit of moving that is incredibly uplifting in its ability to see the world anew, be amazed at fresh qualities of being that allows melody to permeate through into our everyday being. Melody can also assist us with our internal travel: breathing, making soothing sounds, or sounds that allow the walls to shake. Singleness also allowed us to remember what we were hearing, rather than just being talked at. 


"For all its material advantages, the sedentary life has left us edgy and unfulfilled. Even after 

400 generations in villages and cities, we haven't forgotten. The open road still softly calls, like a 

nearly forgotten song of childhood" Carl Sagan

In our modern day of Instagram and facebook and twiter, we tend to glorify the external journey: where we have been, what we have taken a picture of, which monument we saw and how many countries we could fit into a short amount of time.
I too have been an avid traveller of the world. I always thought that through exploring other peoples lives, customs, pantries, languages, bookshelves that I would somehow know more about my own internal and external life: That I could perhaps understand the human race a little more from glimpsing into the unknown lives that others lead, however humble. The open road is also a sense of timelessness, that we have put time aside to honour ourselves and to give our bodies, minds and spirits a sense of recharging and renewal. 
As important as the external travel is, so too is "internal travel", for it can tell us so much about the world in which we find ourselves. It can be nigh impossible to take a photo of the "inside", but it makes it no less eternally memorable. We are all travellers on the internal planes and it can be joyous and perilous. Perhaps it is here in the deep internal travel that we can travel to far away galaxies and glimpse the divine and find deep peace and relaxation. Like a "staycation" where we pack ourselves up in love and wonder. 

Love is a travel. All travellers whether they want or not are changed. No one can 

travel into love and remain the same" Shams of Tabriz

Lovers of caves

"The cave that you fear to enter holds the treasure that you seek" Joseph Campbell.

Time indeed takes on a degree of timelessness whilst in the cave itself. It is hard to know how long I had been in there. Sometimes it felt as if lifetimes had passed. Othertimes, it seemed to move very quickly although I had been in there for hours. A true sense of the elasticity of time.

For therein lies the peace and calm. Stephanie Dowrick once spoke of “intra-personal” peace. The space inside ourselves where it is no longer in conflict.  Just being.  Not the doing. Just being. Resting. Eating, nurturing talking, voicing. The parasympathetic nervous system. Where our bodies should reside for most of the time- at least 95%. And how in modern society it generally doesn’t. It often runs on adrenalin. And keeps running on adreanlin. And then we wonder why we are tired, or have nothing "left". Adrenalin is a non-renewbale energy source. The energy from the parasymaptheitc nervous system is renewable, long lasting, and easy. Kinda like the tropical island relaxation one gets when one is well and truly relaxed. It needs to be nurtured, and loved. 

How can we make our bodies reside more in the Being?

“We die containing a richness of lovers and tribes, tastes we have swallowed, bodies we have plunged into and swum up as if rivers of wisdom, characters we have climbed into as if trees, fears we have hidden in as if caves. I wish for all this to be marked on my body when I am dead.”

― Michael Ondaatje, The English Patient

Caves: echoes of the past

“For echo is the soul of the voice exciting itself in hollow places.” 

                                   ― Michael Ondaatje, The English Patient

The Newdegate Cave at Hastings  was glorious. Cheeky, and filled with a lightness that desired interplay. Many small chambers that resonated with a gloriousness remnant of some of the best cathedrals in the world. A long acoustic. Longing to be sung in. A symphony of sorts...

Newdegate Cave, Hastings Tasmania

So it was with a great appreciation that I had been largely on my own whilst I have sung and explored these caves. The sense of stillness is deeply satisfying. There is something again about residing in the silence, and then making sounds from the ethereal heavens which seems to open up hidden places. 

I was reminded again that I had been to many caves before this year. I went to Sung Sot Cave whilst I was in Vietnam several years ago. My memory of this time was that it felt unstable, and that there were literally thousands of tourists who were traipsing through with little respect for the cave. It had been said many people had taken pieces of the cave and touched much. What i witnessed was this lack of respect for the natural formations. In Australia, and in particular Tasmania, it seems that we are lucky that there is still so much that remains pristine.

Gunns Plains Cave, Tasmania

In Gunns Plains Cave, there was a moment, when the lights were switched off. And the gurgle of the flowing water through the cave was all one could hear. If there was a sound of amniotic fluid, and a recording of this, I imagine that they would be so similar. I was moved to silent tears. A sense of being soothed and safe in the dark. Delicious. Where time stands still. And in that moment I could have stayed there forever. A sign of the divine. Timelessness pervades deeply.

Geoff, the guide spoke of how he is often rejuvenated after a walk through the cave. Going in tired, with aches and ills, and coming out the other side, in a sense reborn with newfound vigour and delight. This was a theme amongst the guides all stating that they always felt better after tours than before. My body felt more energised after being in the caves, and I found my sleep to be deep and strong after such days. 

They do concerts in the cave. This seems to be a new, cool thing to do. It seems the cave energy can now support a new level of sound. Using the cave, and using sound to make the vibration of the cave change. I mean it has been there for over 440 million years. Since the ice age. How amazing is that? And lest we disturb it with our travels, our ramblings, and using sticks on columns to make sound( a little like playing the organ of bones in the Goonies) hopefully it can be preserved for many more years to come.

Cave experiences may not be for everyone, but it seems that once we have tried it, it fits like a comfortable shoe. Picasso describes his creativity as the "descent into caves of initiation and secret knowledge" One woman on a guided trip exclaimed a fearful "OOOH" when it went dark, yet was the first to say "I could have stayed there forever" once the lights were turned back on. Delightful. That seems to be the transformation and residing in process.

Metaphorical language of the caves.

*They caved into their cravings
 *My throat/heart/will caved in"
*Like a child in a magic cave"
*Aladdin's cave

Metaphorical language of caves then reminds me of the breath...

*our first breath

*he took my breath away

*he gasped in fright

*our dying breath

*he was a breath of fresh air
*I walked on air

Newdegate Cave, Hastings

If you know any others, I would love your comments....

Caves and the sound of the feminine

"Magic above and below" Mole Creek, Tasmania

I am currently immersing myself in Tasmania as part of my project as a resident artist. As part of this, I am exploring the sounds of the feminine voice in relation to caves.

As I write, I have a view of the old gums which seem to be happily chatting to me, a good glimpse of Opossum Bay and wonderful fresh air. I have already dealt with spiders, a scorpion (I think) and I had a late night visitor of a masked owl when it flew into my window: we then watched each other for a long time. I like this kind of living.  Hearing the birds. Being near nature, and in nature (although I am reconciling my ability to love all of the crawly aspects-a work in process).

Several events led me to coming down to the Apple Isle. One was a desire for quiet. Silence. To hear nature and the birds. To hear the breath of nature and my breath and how they relate.  One was to discover the cave structures here and make sound in them, where I felt that it was "right".

I know the physics which relates to our voice and speech, including our vocal tract. However, as someone who never really excelled at physics and acoustics, my exploration seems to be more intuitive in nature rather than prescriptive. One such structure in Marakoopa Cave (photos) was deemd by a physicist as having a certain structure that would make a wonderful sound. Sure enough, amazing it is. It sounds like a didgeridoo when a low hum resonates in just the right spot. I was tall enough to reach the spot, alas my lower range was not up to the challenge of resonating to make the exact harmonics. Higher notes were interesting, just not with the same resonant qualities. In King Solomon Caves there were two places where the sound would resonate into infinity. Almost shaped like a long stem of broccoli atop a wedding cake, my guide and I toned and made a beautiful sound that resonated spectacularly throughout the cave. A sense of feeling at one with the cave. A true interconnectedness between nature and 'man'. 

I was at Gunns Plain's Cave last week and Geoff, a wonderfully funny guide took me through. I was the only one on the tour. A theme which continued, luckily for me throughout my cave adventures. There was a moment where the lights were off and we were standing in the dark. The distant sound of the river below felt comforting, perhaps a little like amniotic fluid, and I was moved to tears by the complete and total peace and calm that entered my body. It was a true state of being. Nothing to do, nothing to see, just being. Revitalising. Incredible. They run musical concerts there which would be amazing. And yet, whilst I was there I only wanted to listen to her and not make sounds. A lady on one of the tours exclaimed when the lights went out "Oh I'm scared!" The same lady after several minutes said that "It was magic". That is the nature of how the caves are. Compelling and somewhat repelling at the same time.

This is a theme which continued to the other caves. Some desire sounding and some are encouraging us to listen to them and to ourselves. I went to Yarangobilly Caves in NSW a few weeks ago, and the North Glory Cave entrance really wanted to be sung to. Not so much the South Glory Cave. Interestingly, the North Glory Cave was not open and it was felt that there was much there inside her walls. Each structure having their own story, their own history. Part of my process is listening so intently to this so that I can ascertain what I feel is wanted. And make sure it is not from ego! Often I will get a feeling like someone is holding my mouth gently shut when I am not meant to make sound, and when I am meant to a different quality of breath enters for the inhalation. I am learning to respect and respond to these ever so subtle changes in feeling. More and more I have experienced the magic of the cave responding with a gentle wind, with her own song, not dissimilar to the sounds I had sung. Incredibly subtle. Like a sound made of gossamer thread, not a metal band.

One of the guides was so relieved when we both came to the conclusion that one part of the cave, that seemed to be designed for acoustic bliss, did not want sound in it at all. Paradox. Listening to the feminine intently. Honouring the ancient aspects of the cave. Asking permission to be within her walls. Recognising the ancient magic of the cave and all that it represents. Powerful indeed. 

The feeling once inside is innately beautiful. Deeply restorative. Some of the structures date back to the Ice Age 440 million years ago. A time when the whole world was geologically connected. There is something so awe-inspiring and powerful in that. Cave spiders found in Tassie are also found in Chile. They would have been geographically next door during Gondwana. Glow worms seen in the wild. Who would have thought maggots would be so gorgeous? Certainly not me.

Which got me thinking (I have been doing a lot of that here). Caves are often seen as feminine. We know that they symbolically represent the womb and feminine consciousness. Going deep into the internal psyche as Jung would say. Including the shadow aspect of ourselves. That which is hidden, unseen but oft deeply felt. How can we alter the unseen to the seen, the unheard to the heard. So that we may find ourselves within.

Is it that there might be places within the cave where the masculine voice is amplified and the feminine voice is amplified so that they may reach true harmony together? Quite possibly. I am continuing the exploration....