Bogong- Week 2

Days in Bogong are filled with being: dreaming, walking, listening and wondering. New ear-perspectives are being highlighted throughout the environs; new knowledge of how to record and structure sound is being learnt.

For me, there is a translation that occurs between Nature and Self, Body and Voice, Land and Sounds. I am looking for ways to record this: to be able to capture the ethereal reality of the dreamscape and physicalize it into “reality”.

The birds are gloriously vocal here. They chirp and tweet and herald the dusk and the dawn. They inspire me to make sounds far across the gullies. To use vowel sounds and open the vocal channel and sing with them: To be in harmony with them.

A few weeks back, I was awoken one morning by the repetition of ‘Solomon….Solomon….Solomon….’ The reverie holding the word for me to further day dream on.  I investigated the Queen of Sheba and King Solomon. Solomon the Wise was a great Magician: he knew the language of the birds. “He understood the language of the Should and the inner voice of Intuition” Mark Starvish. In every indigenous culture they speak of their relationship to birds:  Ravens were known to guide the North American Indians to food. The language of the birds is a divine and mythical language. For me, it is a strong reminder to look deeper internally for signs and signals and follow the voice of intuition throughout the day.

Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades

Past the near meadows, over the still stream,

Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep

In the next valley-glades:

Was it a vision, or a waking dream?

Fled is that music:—Do I wake or sleep?

John Keats. Ode on a Nightingale.

The morning misty clouds on Sunday morning sparked onto a delightfully hot and humid day. The clouds were in perfect formation (see Photo 2). An inspiration of the whispiness of the wind carrying its visually formed breath, and the fleeting nature of Nature. Again a beautiful reminder of the beauty of Nature, and how quickly the mountains can change.

With thanks and gratitude to the Bogong Centre for Sound Culture, for the privilege of having a two week artist in residence as part of the upcoming festival in April 2017, Phantasmagoria.

Hamam songs

The seven lights on the steamed dome roof seemed to call in the seven sisters of the Pleiades. We numbered seven in the room who were singing.

A while I was privvy to an evening of bathing decadence at some outdoor thermal springs in the middle of winter. The moon was waning, and the night sky was darkened. Cloudy at first, and later a glorious web of stars in the sky was revealed.

Might I say that it was not myself nor my 2 companions who started the sound. It was a group of 4 young people: 2 with booming bass notes and 2 girls who sat cross legged as if opening themselves up to the wonders around them with open throated "ahhhhh's". What gloriousness to be spontaneously creative. Was it also due to the dome, the curvature, the essence of water or of the slight vision altering of the steam that made it easy to commune and make sound with people not yet met. The unifying nature of the voice and sound was palpable and powerful. Together we made sounds that luxuriated, reverberated and rejoiced. Hearts full with beautiful intentions of making sound to fill the wondrous space around us.

"Sacred chants paid as much attention to the way the tone was reached as to the tone itself- just as a true lover considers the way he or she approaches the beloved as important as the act of love itself" Rudhyar

The joy of hearing others make sound. The pleasure of making reverberations  enhanced the beauty of the environment. New friends made, new joys shared.

I heard one of the girls say "As she sang... I felt my whole body release"

A special gift from above that said "People want to use sound to be happy, to release, to be social"

Flow- in staying out of our own way...

“If I can get out of my own way,

If I can be pure enough,

If I can be selfless enough

And if I can be generous and loving and caring enough

To abandon what I have and my own

Preconceived silly notions of what I think I am

And become truly who in fact I am

Which is really just a child of the Universe

Then the music/sound/voice/flow/movements can really use me

And here lies my fulfilment

That’s where the flow starts to happen”

J.McLaughlin



This was my personal objective/mantra/aim for the concert on Sunday.....How to stay out of my own way. It was a feat. A triumph on a deeply personal level. It was a true testament to my mental, emotional and physical wellbeing as well as a deep trust in all that is. From all accounts it was a success. I received beautiful feedback, and it felt good.


Using all the strategies I speak of with my clients, I entered into the space calm, with minimal adrenaline, resting more with the nestles of the parasympathetic nervous system than in the popularised pep up of "go get 'em". I know I felt deeply connected to all that was around me, and felt definitively in the zone. I was connected to the breath, and to myself. I did not abandon myself once. I allowed myself to rest fully with my psyche, and the space I was residing in. The inner critic did not rear its ugly head, and the weight of judgement was nowhere to be seen within my heart. In that moment, I was completely blissed out, in love with all that was.


In this space, I know I could have resided for ever.

Thanks to all who came and supported me throughout my process. xx

Wild Cave Sound Adventure

"It feels as if there is now a cave in my mouth" Client after a session, 2012

Looking at the cave from the inside. I see the river as the breath, the entrance as the mouth and the small rock atop as the uvula. I seek to convey the similarities between the microcosm of our mouth and throat with the macrocosm of the cave. Caves require humidity and hollowness inside the cave to make resonating sound. So do humans- our vocal cords and tract require hydration. The caves' acoustics are dependent upon the humidity and moisture in the air creating a unique harmonic environment. Water is a great carrier of sound. And some say that if we 'travel the waters', it is related to our superconscious. 

So I never thought I would be the person to don King Gees, gumboots and a helmet with a torch and go caving. I have been scared of her power (and by my fitness level). But indeed I did.

 I met up with Deb from Wild Cave Tours and had a real experience of nature unlike one I had ever had before. Seeing aspects of caves I had not seen, nor felt. Its raw beauty and its fragility and strength. The mighty power of Mother Nature. The freedom to get  covered in mud and wade through water was liberating. Going headfirst down small tunnels into more open, yet enclosed spaces. The myth of the womb re-entered my psyche. The many residents of the caves in myths and fables. Making gorgeous ambient sound in the supported circular space. Caves were the first homes of man, and our mother's womb is our first place of residence and nourishment. It was a deeply nurturing space, and again the sense of aliveness arose after exiting the cave. An elixir of youth of sorts. The cave altered my body and aspects of  my mind, especially my spine.

We explored "Honeycomb Cave". This is the cave where they filmed The Hunter which I had serendipitously seen earlier in the year, and truly loved.

Deb was an amazing guide.  A true guardian of the cave. Quite different from the guides who run the tourist caves. Practical, fierce, strong, lithe with utter respect for the cave and its many life forms inside the cave. She watches the cave and her tour members intently, acutely aware of all movements. I trusted her and felt safe in following her clear instructions and her footsteps. She is gifted in transitioning between the outer and inner worlds. She treats the cave with love and care and for the sacred space that it is. We had two other members in our group, whose time was sorely cut short for several reasons. Interestingly their jobs were about transitions, once being with babies, and the other with the unemployed. Transitioning between worlds, areas of light and dark, between seen and unseen.

At one stage I was left alone in a dark part of the cave (at my request) so Deb could escort another tour member out of the cave. I could hear their footsteps and their voices trail off into the distance, and I was left on a rock in the dark with just a sliver of light from the outside coming in. There I made a sound recording. Warm and content in the shadows. Listening to the song of the cave, hearing the flow from the river, listening to her breath, I was moved to make sound. Deb and I improvised in other places, with her on her flute and voice. Intuiting and toning the sound of the cave. Exploring how different formations make different resonances, finding the perfect fit between its structure and my sound. I was truly blessed to have such a mulit-talented guide.

Sarah and Deb post adventure (yes, there is always a daggy picture to honour such a beautiful event!)

The structures of the caves have been there for millions of years. A sense of timelessness under the ground. One could get lost within the cavernous walls. Slightly Coleridge-esque"a stately pleasure dome decree, of caverns measureless to man, down to a sunless sea".

I saw the hollow spaces of the rock as uniquely feminine (the yin) and the rock structure itself as masculine (the yang) I am in awe of her beauty and her presence. There was an ability to surrender to her in the caves, and yet still be aware, mindful and present on what was in front of me.

The cave seemed to reinforce the saying "Not with the flow, or against the flow, but in the flow". It was a glorious space to reside in.

Sound and Silence: a(n) (H)earpoint

“The important notes were the ones I didn’t play.” Louis Armstrong

Contemplation and meditation, as well as musings gathered from regular ocean walks, helped me to become aware again as to why sound was so important to me. People around me seemed to be able to be with a lot of loud noise, a lot of the time. Not so for me. I am starting to make silence a regular part of my day. Without it my nervous system becomes over-stimulated and the parasympathetic nervous system becomes elusive having all sorts of body ramifications.

From birth I was significantly vision impaired. I needed to hear and touch the world. I could not see things and did not see things as others saw them. I was exposed to an alternative sensorial environment: one where sound was paramount. Individuating people and their moods from their unique sound “aroma”. I have vague early recollections that this led to a great deal of fatigue; where silence was a balm when I did not have to be on alert. When i did get glasses it was a whole new way of information entering my psyche, which I adored. I would read to excess, under the covers, even though my eyes hurt.  

Even at this age, I had such a strong desire to know more; to understand the world. It wasn't until I was in my mid 30's that I had a true experience of depth perception: seeing the world in 3D. Oliver Sack's book "The Minds Eye" tells the story of a woman who has 2D vision (unable to sense depth). I  related to that instantly upon reading it, where much of my visual world then made sense. From this visual lack, my auditory and kinaesthetic worlds are my strength. I am lucky for as a voice specialist, visual detail is not the most important aspect. I can hear the voice in a uniquely different way from so many early experiences where this was vital to my survival. It now acts as one of my primary tools of differentiation.

I looked to my creative world for silence to fully immerse myself in the experience of sound at its most delicate. We are exposed to copious amounts of “ambient” noise each day. On any given day in a local café, I could hear the sounds of gulls, traffic, cups, coffee machines, people chattering, exhausts, skateboarders and many other noise cues, as well as music. Interestingly, it was also here in noisy places that I had the opportunity to become aware of my body, my thoughts, and emotions. It seems that when there is too much sound (known as auditory bombardment), I have the opportunity to not listen to any of it (for short periods only).

I was able to contemplate auditory selection versus bombardment in reading the journal of  Acoustical Society of America (ASA) (2012) “Although we have little awareness that we are doing it, we spend most of our lives filtering out many of the sounds that permeate our lives and acutely focusing on others -- a phenomenon known as auditory selective attention.” 

It is interesting that those who get hearing aids for the first time often give up for this exact reason. It takes up to 6 months for the neural re-structuring to filter out unwanted sounds. For many, they wear them non-stop for 3 days, become auditorally 'burnt out', place them in a drawer and never use them again. There needs to be a making peace with the sound world again.

The balance between sound and silence is a unique aspect of my musicality and performance. 

I began to look into my creative sound world through a lens of selective attention to express increasingly subtle nuances of sound. I started to question if could invite people into my auditory unique world: To show them a prism of my conscious world; an invitation to sense another viewpoint. Or a(n) “(h)earpoint.”

This led me to further performance musings.What state does one have to be in in order to truly hear and to be here? Does selectively hearing make us more present to our environment? The idea arose that there might be multiple stages of presence. What would guide people to be more present to themselves and the sounds around them? 

How could I invite others to be present to sound in performance? Is it through shock- as I have seen so many others do, such as in horror movies or certain theatre performances. Or is it through subtle sublime-ness, which I have also seen, such as a performance by Chamber Made Opera and Rawcus theatre company in their show “Another Lament”. Here there were definite feelings in the silence. Some silences were peaceful and others were strident. 

In performance I have a sense that I want to wait until the echoes have ended. Call and silent response, silent response and then call and so the cycle continues. 

Finding ways to strike the balance between sound and silence, for therein lies the power and the harmony between us and the world around us.