The presence game
Go outside at night, after dark, but not too late, like ten o’clock, before the world’s gone to bed.
City. Country. Doesn’t matter.
Put aside thoughts, screens, cares.
Just listen unencumbered.
First you hear nothing, then it becomes a cacophony, white noise, a blur of sound.
Keep listening. It starts to separate into layers.
Crickets, night birds, frogs, truck on a distant highway.
Cars on the street, the squeak and bounce of a pick-up game, a siren, garbage trucks on their late night rounds.
Silence of snow falling, plane flying five miles high.
Now return to your thoughts and screens – schedules, the project you’re working on, grocery list, tomorrow’s meeting, Facebook.
All those layers of sound, that entire cast of night performers, turn back into white noise – if you even notice it at all.
Interesting how that works, how easily the here and now disappear.
I play the presence game.
No narrative, no agenda, no point to make.
Just document the here and now. Wherever it is. Wherever I am.
Let the images make their own sense once they’ve been captured, where the game is the point.