conscient podcast

while doing my qi gong one morning I heard roofers removing tiles and recalled simplesoundscape in 2016…TRANSCRIPT OF EPISODE(bell + sound of roofers taking off tiles)While doing my daily qi gong on May 25, 2023 I was listening to roofers removing tiles on a nearby house.  I’ve always been troubled and fascinated by the sound of deconstruction… of things being ripped apart… of the undoing of objects held together with glue, nails or screws. I sometimes feel the pain of the wood, metals and minerals. I sometimes feel like a part of me lives within these materials.I think about where these materials came from - their extraction from the earth - and how we treat them when they are no longer useful to us. I feel gratitude towards these living beings who provide us with shelter and comfort.Now I want to take you back to another encounter with deconstruction, in August of 2016, the very first recording of my simplesoundscapes project about mindful listening. Here is the recording from the very first episode of simplesoundsccapes: (beginning of simplesoundscapes pilot episode with nails being removed in background)This pilot episode of simplesoundscapes explores the ecological and philosophical implications of deconstruction. I have a lifelong interest in environmental issues, in particular with acoustic ecology and so when I heard both the violence and the poetry of siding being removed and nails being extracted from a wall on our cottage, I was compelled to record it and to start this podcast series called simplesoundscapes. So this particular recording was captured in mono on an ipad with the ipad on a window sill. It  was recorded in August 2016 in Duhamel, Quebec.  I invite you to think about the following question: ‘If construction is the art and science of building and deconstruction is its opposite, selective dismantlement, how then can we constructively deconstruct?’How can you constructively deconstruct?*CREDITSThanks to the roofers that I recorded and all the best with the development of green practices in your industry. I am grateful and accountable to the earth and the human labour that provided me with the privilege of producing this episode. (including all the toxic materials and extractive processes behind the computers, recorders, transportation and infrastructure that make this podcast possible).My gesture of reciprocity for this episode is to American Foundation for Suicide Prevention.

my zen practice taught me that unhurried speech invites us to slow downEPISODE TRANSCRIPTION(bell and breath)When I was a student at the White Wind Zen Community in Ottawa I had the privilege of listening to recorded teachings by Ven. Anzan Hoshin roshi. You can hear some his recording on wwzc.org.During these teisho, the roshi speaks very slowly, with a lot of silence between words, a bit like what I’m doing now.Silence between words.As well as words between silence.Now I love listening to spoken words at this kind of slow pace. It invites other sounds to permeate the acoustic space, such as the traffic that is in the background now, a bit of birdsong, muffled sounds. But we can also notice other things like our breath - it’s pace, depth, odor, weight - so many dimensions that we usually don't pay attention to and minute movements such as cracking of the floor from the weight of the chair, oscillations of light and so many details we normally don’t notice.I love the way spoken words linger in the air, hugging the clouds and floating down like rain or snow.I love the way unhurried speech invites us to slow down.So you might ask : how does the pace of speech relate to the sound of modernity?The sound of modernity is the opposite of slowness. It’s fast moving and generally saturated, isn’t it?Constant in overdrive, with technology accelerating our lives, faster and faster every day, We seem to have lost touch with slowness - there’s my phone reminded me to be fast.We’ve also lost touch with the notion, the feeling of distance. So I’m going to slowly walk away from this microphone, while repeating this narration again as an exercise in listening to slowness but also to distance. Thanks for listening. (Gets up and walks away)When I was a student at the White Wind Zen Community in Ottawa I had the privilege of listening to recordings of teachings, by Ven. Anzan Hoshin roshi. You can hear some on wwzc.org.During these teisho, the roshi speaks very slowly, with a lot of silence between words, like I am speaking now.Silence between words.Words between silence.I love listening to spoken words at a slow pace…*For more information on the White Wind Zen Community, see https://wwzc.org/I am grateful and accountable to the earth and the human labour that provided me with the privilege of producing this episode. (including all the toxic materials and extractive processes behind the computers, recorders, transportation and infrastructure that make this podcast possible).My gesture of reciprocity for this episode is to White Wind Zen Community.

an exercise where I invite listeners to stop what they are doing, listen and to enjoy the experience(unedited improvised narration)Listening is at the heart of this season of the conscient podcast. Specifically, listening to the sounds of modernity, but also listening to everything, all at once and noticing what is going on, usually a mix of systems collapse and resilient beauty. So today’s episode is a listening exercise. At the end of this recording I invite you to stop what you are doing for a few minutes and listen to what is around you. Try not to think or analyse what you hear. Just note what is happening and enjoy the experience. Try to let the sounds enter your body without passing judgment. Just listen. I invite you to stay where you are or move around. I’ll give you an example from where I am right now. It’s 5.30 am on May 17, 2023. I’m in an apartment in Montreal. I’m hearing a thin tic toc sound at a distance. Behind that I hear a faint birdsong outside the apartment. I also hear my voice reverberating in this room and the sound of my breath. I also hear and feel the sound of my blood passing through my veins. The more I listen the more I hear and feel connected to this space and this moment. I’m not listening to modernity. I am modernity. *This listening exercise was recorded on my iphone (poor sound quality) at 5.30am on May 16th, 2023 (I made a mistake and said May 17 on the recording) in one take in mp 3 format.I wrote the script a few minutes before recording it. I did not edit the recording or add the ‘bell and breath’ at the top. I wanted it to be from that moment, ‘as is’, in the spirit of the exercise. I am grateful and accountable to the earth and the human labour that provided me with the privilege of producing this episode. (including all the toxic materials and extractive processes behind the computers, recorders, transportation and infrastructure that make this podcast possible).My gesture of reciprocity for this episode is to NAISA, New Adventures in Sound Art.

a quote from robin parmar about speculative fiction that raises some questions(bell and breath)I love the sound of leaves dancing on hard surfaces. (sound of a leaf blowing)It’s poetic and kinetic and you’ll see in a minute how this sound relates to this episode about speculative fiction. With his kind permission, I will quote composer Robin Parmar, from a question he asked me at the end of my keynote presentation at the World Forum for Acoustic Ecology conference ‘Listening Pasts - Listening Futures’ on March 23rd, 2023 in Florida via Zoom. Here’s Robin question recorded from my microphone in the room:The problem with the future is that it's already happened. Hollywood, and increasingly the games industry, have already colonized popular imagination about what the future is and there have been so many post-apocalyptic scenarios played out on the screen. And in almost all of these, there's a heroic band of survivors who have to face their new world in a confrontational way, which just perpetuates the same narrative of what I prefer to call the industrial military entertainment complex. I don't, like you, I don’t give up hope, but I realize it’s a small leaf in the wind, because I'm not sure how we can compete with such a massive force of narrative that in a way has already written the story, or at least the story that people want to hear, because people have to want to hear the story for it to be a successful one.(sound of a leaf blowing)Robin mentions a small leaf in the wind as a metaphor for our feeling powerless when faced with creative forces around us shaping our collective imagination in ways we might not be aware of, or even desire…So I thought about Robin’s question and have come up with some questions of my own:(in English and in French)Has the future already happened in our minds and memory? / L'avenir a-t-il déjà eu lieu dans notre esprit et notre mémoire ? Do you feel like your imagination has been colonized? And if so, how would you know? / Avez-vous l'impression que votre imagination a été colonisée ? Et si oui, comment le sauriez-vous ?Do you know who your heroic band of survivors might be? And if so, could you identify with them? / Savez-vous qui pourrait être votre groupe héroïque de survivants ? Si oui, pourriez-vous vous identifier à eux ? In what ways do you think the industrial military entertainment complex affects us? How does it affect our minds? / De quelle manière pensez-vous que le complexe industriel militaire et de divertissement nous affecte. Comment affecte-il notre esprit ?I want to thank Robin for his question. Merci pour ta question, Robin.What kind of stories do you want to hear? / Quel genre d'histoires aimeriez-vous entendre ?*For more information on Robert Parmar’s work see http://robinparmar.com/paper-platial-phenomenology.html. I am grateful and accountable to the earth and the human labour that provided me with the privilege of producing this episode. (including all the toxic materials and extractive processes behind the computers, recorders, transportation and infrastructure that make this podcast possible).My gesture of reciprocity for this episode is to Howlround Theatre Commons https://howlround.com/.

Here is another bonus episode, this one is called 'Portrait of Robin Mathews'. It is 3 part unpublished radio program I created in 2005 in collaboration with Robin based on an interview I recorded with him in 2004. The program is a layered discussion about the history of political poetry in Canada, the role of the artist in society and family matters, in particular his relationship with me as my father-in-law.  This program also includes Robin reading excerpts of his poetry as well as some of my soundscape compositions.

e129 world listening day - what does world listening day mean to you?(bell and breath)Every July 18th is World Listening Day. It’s also composer and acoustic ecologist R. Murray Schafer’s birthday. Rest in peace Murray. Now World Listening Day 2023 proposes three very interesting  listening prompts and I'll try to answer their questions in today's episode.Question 1What can we learn from the listening practices of all living beings?What can we learn from the listening practices of all living beings?It's a very good question and I would start by questioning who is the ‘we’ in this context. I would also question the assumption that other living beings have listening practices as we know them. ‘We’.This being said, this prompt made me think of a story told to me by composer Robert Normandeau in 1991 for my Marche sonore 1 radio program that I did for Radio-Canada. I quote it in episode 19 reality and I’ll play it back for you now. (e19 reality)·   It’s a bit like taking a frog, which is a cold-blooded animal, and putting it in a jar of water and heating the water, little by little. The frog will get used to the temperature rising and rising, and it will not notice that the temperature has risen and one day the temperature will be too hot for it and it will die. Therefore, our civilization, in terms of sound, looks a bit like that, that is to say we get used to it, we get used to it, we get used to it and at some point, we are going to have punctured eardrums.Now the early 1990’s were a time of great environmental awakening and action, in particular the 1992 Rio Earth Summit. There was a sense that this was our last chance to change directions, to undo some of the wrongs of pollution. Ironically, things got much worse after 1992.Sadly, this window is now closed and we find ourselves in very hot water not feeling or responding to the heat, the smoke and other signals we are receiving and so we’re slowly boiling to death…(Bell)Question 2How can we deterritorialize listening practices?How can we deterritorialize listening practices?Dererrirorialize. De… terror. Deterritorialize.  It’s a hard word to say.The notion of territory makes me think of stolen lands by colonial settlers, like myself, living in indigenous lands, unceded lands, such as the Algonquin-Anishinaabe nation, otherwise known as Ottawa.One form of deterritorialization is the land back movement.According to journalist and Canada Council for the Arts chair Jesse Wente (also see e107 harm) land back is :about the decision-making power. It’s about self-determination for our Peoples here that should include some access to the territories and resources in a more equitable fashion, and for us to have control over how that actually looks.What does land back sound like?  Just last week I published an episode about decolonized listening 128 revisited. Here’s an an excerpt from that episode : On June 23, 2023 I had the pleasure, and the privilege, of attending ‘Listening to Lhq’a:lets’ (I hope I’m pronouncing that right), otherwise known as the city of Vancouver, at the Peter Wall Institute for Advanced Learning at the University of British Coumbia, which is situated l on the unceded and ancestral territory of the Musqueam Nation. A group of artists, all women, spoke about their week-long residency, organized by indigenous sound scholar and UBC professor Dr. Dylan Robinson. They shared a wide range of sensory engagements through listening to Lhq’a:lets: how our bodies listen through the haptics of vibration, about  hearing and feeling the voices of our non-human relations, about how we can perceive the built environment with new perspectives – the air, waterways and earth that surround us. They spoke about their encounters with the trans-mountain pipeline, their dialogues with animals and birds, their encounters with haunting vibrations and their thoughts about the past, present and future sounds of this region. What they did not talk about was themselves, their accomplishments or the type of technology they used to extract and manipulate the sounds. None of that. There was also no reverence for say R. Murray Schafer or the World Soundscape Project, nor any nostalgia about the good old days when, say, the term ‘soundscape’ was invented. There was no disrespect either. They were listening from a different position. So I heard stories, poems, anecdotes, images, silences and prophecies… It was uplifting. (simplesoundscapes e03 bones) (Bell) Question 3When should we listen more?When should we listen more?I guess it depends on what kind of listening, doesn’t it? More listening with a colonial lens or colonial education is not helpful. Perhaps we could listen more to ourselves through listening to other living beings? Maybe we could listen more to the land and give back?Warm thanks to my colleagues at the World Listening Days for your thoughtful prompts and ongoing commitment to listening, by everyone, everywhere.What does world listening day mean to you?*For more information on World Listening Day and to participate, this year or next, see https://worldlisteningday.org/I am grateful and accountable to the earth and the human labour that provided me with the privilege of producing this episode. (including all the toxic materials and extractive processes behind the computers, recorders, transportation and infrastructure that make this podcast possible).My gesture of reciprocity for this episode is to World Listening Day 2023.

(bell and breath)(movement 1 of vancouver soundscape revisited, eagle)You’re listening to the first movement, eagle, of my 1996 soundscape composition, vancouver soundscape revisited.I describe the piece in the program note as :an impressionistic portrait of the musicality and poetry of past, present and future soundscapes of Vancouver composed using archival sounds dating from the World Soundscape Project in the early 1970’s and from recordings of Vancouver made in the early 1990’s by Bob MacNevin on behalf of the School of Communication at Simon Fraser University (SFU). My method was to select a few hundred sounds from the collection, which I edited and catalogued by spectrum, category, function, pitch, and context. I then experimented with various combinations and modifications of the material until interesting sonic alchemies were found…’For example, you can now hear the ubiquitous sound of rain in Vancouver, a distant train whistle, bird song, the rumble of the harbour and…  the 9 o'clock gun.Let me tell you a short story.On June 23, 2023 I had the pleasure, and the privilege, of attending ‘Listening to Lhq’a:lets’ (I hope I’m pronouncing it right), otherwise known as the city of Vancouver, at the Peter Wall Institute for Advanced Learning at the University of British Coumbia, which is situated l on the unceded and ancestral territory of the Musqueam Nation.A group of artists, all women, spoke about their week-long residency, organized by indigenous sound scholar and UBC professor Dr. Dylan Robinson. They shared a wide range of sensory engagements through listening to Lhq’a:lets: how our bodies listen through the haptics of vibration, about  hearing and feeling the voices of our non-human relations, about how we can perceive the built environment with new perspectives - the air, waterways and earth that surround us. They spoke about their encounters with the trans-mountain pipeline, their dialogues with animals and birds, their encounters with haunting vibrations and their thoughts about the past, present and future sounds of this region. What they did not talk about was themselves, their accomplishments or the type of technology they used to extract and manipulate the sounds. None of that. There was also no reverence for say R. Murray Schafer or the World Soundscape Project, nor any nostalgia about the good old days when, say, the term ‘soundscape’ was invented. There was no disrespect either. They were listening from a different position. So I heard stories, poems, anecdotes, images, silences and prophecies… It was uplifting. (excerpt from movement 2, fire)So when I listened back to my soundscape  composition, I realized that my revisitation was mostly a, let’s call it, a reshuffling of the colonial deck chairs. Yes I cleverly combined horns, whistles, sirens, industrial and natural sounds as a commentary on the beauty and madness of contemporary urban life but my revisitation was from a very narrow point of view. I now realise that this music, my music, is inherently complicit with colonialism and that my creative gestures are actually further cycles of exploitation.In retrospect it might have been more useful for me to figure out how to repair the damage done to past, present and future soundscapes of Lhq’a:lets.What does decolonized listening sound like to you?*This event was part of the three-part Friday evening series, Artists Within the Anthropocene. Presented in partnership with the Belkin Art Gallery. Listening to Lhq’a:lets / Vancouver is also part of a week-long artist residency organized with The Score: Performing, Listening and Decolonization UBC Research Excellence Cluster, in partnership with the UBC School of Music and Evergreen. The six participating artists were Bonnie Devine, Tanya Lukin Linklater, Dolleen Manning, Lisa Myers, Astrida Neimanis, Lisa Ravensbergen and Rita Wong.With thanks to the six artists who represented their work on June 23 and to Dylan Robinson for his ongoing enquiries.I am grateful and accountable to the earth and the human labour that provided me with the privilege of producing this episode. (including all the toxic materials and extractive processes behind the computers, recorders, transportation and infrastructure that make this podcast possible).My gesture of reciprocity for this episode is to Full Circle.

Note: the podcast recording was improvised based on this script and therefore has additional material.This 127th episode of the conscient podcast marks the halfway point of season 4, which, as you might recall, is called Sounding Modernity and explores what modernity might sound like, how it affects us and what we can do about it.. Maybe…A heads up that this episode is 57 minutes in duration because it is part of the ‘afield’ series of framework radio in Estonia. The season began on January 1 with e101 tension:(Beginning of e101)I was thinking about the tensions in our lives and the art of finding balance points… So I went for a sound walk in Vancouver and came upon a piece of fishing line. I brought it home, strung it up and recorded myself plucking it…(cross fade to the end of e101)Listeners might recall that each episode this season ends with a question:How do you feel now?‘How do you feel now’ is actually at the heart of this project. How do one perceive the sounds of our modern world? What does it feel like to absorb these sounds into our bodies? How can we change the way we listen?  How can we move away from the madness of modernity? And if, tragically, we are unable to step away, at the very least, how can we help prepare future generations for what is coming? How can art help? How can listening help? Are we helpless?(Silence then ocean sounds) I’ve received some interesting responses and reactions to the first 26 episodes and 6 blogs of the project so far, in various forms and channels, for example, this poem from artist and educator Carolina Duque (also known as Azul), submitted on January 3, 2023, about her experience with e101 tension :I walked down the sea line of San Andrés Island, in the Caribbean, as I listened.ListenedFelt the tensiontensIonI grew up on this island. I notice the shoreline getting smaller.I notice the corals turning grey. I notice the buildings growing taller. The overlapping reggaeton and vallenato music from competing speakers.I notice everything getting louder.I notice theTens – ion.I notice the menus saying fish is scarce.I noticeIn my lungs the tension. In my eyes the tension.In my waves, in my feet.The tension.(Ocean sound fade out)My response : I was reading Jenny Odell’s ‘How To Do Nothing’ book today and came upon this sentence that relates to your response. I quote: ‘I hold up bioregionalism as a model for how we might begin to think again about place’ (end of quote), which to me means that we need to be stewards of the land, wherever we are, in collaboration with all living beings. I documented almost all of the feedback I received from listeners in my monthly conscient blog on conscient.ca. I am grateful for these gifts of knowledge and insight. (e102 aesthetics)Most episodes in this podcast are about the relationship between art and the ecological crisis. For example, in e102 aesthetics:The problem with beauty is that it can distract us from reality. Sit with me, please, take a moment. Sit and listen…I’ve also integrated soundscape compositions in and around the narrative, for example, from e103 heat:(end of e103)This thing is smart. Everything talks to each other. I would just leave it on auto and let it choose what it wants to do.  What does decarbonization sound like to you?How do we decarbonize our lifestyles? One way is to rethink the way we use energy in day to day life, for example, in e110 - drain, I talk about water : (beginning of e110)It goes down the drain (again) and into the sewer system to be processed and dumped into the Ottawa river, then it evaporates into the sky and it rains back into our lakes and rivers, bringing with it with many pollutants, and then is pumped into our homes, in our bodies and heated until… A friend, artist Maria Gomez, shared this response to e110 on March 6:Only the water doesn’t stay in the Ottawa region, as it travels south in the moist of the clouds all the way to the Patagonia glaciers, and in ocean currents to Asia and its skies and then it travels up the Arctic… the water I bathe in contains my cells that are distributed around the world, and particles from the world touch me in the water.I responded:It’s true that water travels in us, through us and beyond. The sound of water can be either pleasant or a signal of danger but either way we need to listen and understand the language of water…Some episodes call upon quotes from previous episode such as photographer Joan Sullivan in e96 from season 3 which I used in e106 fire : (near the end of e106)And it suddenly dawned on me that I, my hands, weren’t shaking up because of the cold, but because of an anger, you know, this deep, profound anger about our collective indifference in the face of climate breakdown. Wait, we're just carrying on with our lives as if you know, la la la and nothing, nothing bad happening. So there was this sense of rage. I mean, like, honestly, it's surprising how strong it'd be in a violent rage just sort of coming outta me. I wanted to scream, and I just, you know, took my camera and just moved it violently, right? Left up, down the, and almost, I suppose, it was almost like I was drowning in the water. You know, my arms are just doing everything. And I was holding down the shutter the whole time, you know, 20, 30, 40 photos at a time. And I did it over. And oh, I was just, I was just, I was just beside myself. And you know, you at some point, you just stop and you're staring out at the river. And I just felt helpless. I just didn't know what to do…I hear you dear Joan. I also do not know what to do.I also called upon climate activist and politician Anjali Appadurai from e23 in season 2 in e114 :(middle section of e114 privilege)Privilege can go back as far as you wanted to go back, right? And of course it’s so nuanced. It’s not every white guy has this much privilege, but you do have a privilege that goes back hundreds of years and I think one aspect of privilege, one that a lot of people leave out, is this economic aspect, right, of class and resources. And that is not often talked about in the climate conversation, but it’s a huge piece of it. Because when we talk about the extinction of our species, this extinction doesn’t happen overnight. It happens in a spectrum. Who are the last ones standing? Those with the most resources and who are the first ones to go? It’s those with the least, the most disenfranchised. So I don’t think you can talk about climate without talking about privilege ultimately. And I think it’s on each of us to unpack that for ourselves and to bring that into the conversation.(field recording of natural soundscape from Florida)The most ambitious episode so far has been e112 listening, which I presented as my keynote speech at the World Forum for Acoustic Ecology (WFAE) conference Listening Pasts - Listening Futures, in Florida. It actually runs for over 10 minutes so I broke my own rule here of having only 5 minute episodes but I decided to go with the flow when an episode needed more time. Why not? Here the final sequence from e112: (from the end of e112)Conclusion 5 :  connect our effortsTodd Dufresne, e19: ‘Whoever survives these experiences will have a renewed appreciation for nature, for the external world, and for the necessity of collectivism in the face of mass extinction.’Asad Rehman, Green Dreamer podcast (e378) : ‘Our goal is to keep our ideas and policies alive for when the politically impossible becomes the politically inevitable’. George Monbiot, tweet November 13, 2021 :  ‘We have no choice but to raise the scale of civil disobedience until we have built the greatest mass movement in history.’My question to you is ‘how can listening help’?During the performance I walked out of the room at the Atlantic Center for the Arts in New Smyrna Beach around the building asking that same question :How can listening help?(Recording from live performance of my keynote) Each episode of this season has a different aesthetic, a different style, depending on my inspiration, mood and what I am learning or unlearning on any given week. For example, some episodes feature unedited field recordings, such as the subway in Montreal in e120 metro where I invite you, the listener, to sit with the sound and let it speak to you, as if the sound were a living entity, which, I think, it is.(beginning of e120)Sometimes we just have to stop and listen. Without passing judgement. Just listen…. Sometimes we just have to stop and listen.Another example is the sound of freezing rain on a canopy of hard snow in a frozen forest in e122 quiet:(middle of e122)I suspect this one might seem a bit boring for some listeners because not much happens, but I enjoy listening to quiet spaces and tuning into more subtle sonic patterns and layers of sound and silence.(end of e122)When I launched Sounding Modernity in December 2022 I wrote that my intention was to :Address some of the causes of this massive and violent overreach of planetary boundaries but also to explore how we can preserve some of modernity’s benefits, without the destruction.In retrospect I realise this was a very ambitious goal but also pretentious and sometimes naive. I soon realized that failure was not only inevitable but necessary in order to experience boundaries and limitations.Here’s a quote from the Gift of Failure teaching by the Gesturing Towards Decolonial Futures collective in my February blog :We chose the word “gesture” for the title of our collective to underscore the fact that decolonization is impossible when our livelihoods are underwritten by colonial violence and unsustainability. The food we eat, the clothes we wear, our health systems and social security, and the technologies that allow us to write about this are all subsidized by expropriation, dispossession, destitution, genocides and ecocides. There is no way around it: we cannot bypass it, the only way is through. How we fail is important. It is actually in the moments when we fail that the deepest learning becomes possible and that is usually where we stumble upon something unexpected and extremely useful. Failing generatively requires both intellectual and relational rigour.One of my favorite failures is e121 rumble where I impersonate a superhero, Dr Decibel, in Stanley Park in Vancouver.  It’s pretty hokey and raw but I like the way it explores storytelling and fantasy.This is Dr. Decibel. Your sonic superhero on the unseated ancestral territories of the Musqueam, Squamish and Tsleil-Waututh Nations otherwise known as…  Well, I think you know where I am. (plane passing by). You have a problem here people. The low frequencies are excessive : traffic, industry, ventilation. Layers and layers of rumble and I hate rumble. Rumbleeeee is not something that I enjoy, so I’m going to use my superpowers today to reduce the amount of rumble in your city. Ruuuuumble… (imitation of rumbling sounds)(middle section of e118)Another failed episode was e118 toilet about shit. My intention here was to comment upon composting, both literally and figuratively. Vanessa Andreotti talks eloquently about shit in her book Hospicing Modernity but instead of addressing the issue head on, I took the easy way out and produced an episode with the statement ‘where does your shit go’ accompanied by four recordings of toilets flushing, which does not directly address the issue, but it’s a start. And, to be honest, I was attracted by the rich sound of the toilet refilling and the silence that follows when it is full, waiting to flush, again and again, precious water in a wasteful cycle of flushing away our issues…(beginning of e118 toilet)(bell and breath) where does your shit go? (toilet flush 1)On April 25 my dear father in law Robin Mathews passed away of pancreatic cancer. His illness was on mind throughout the first half of the project. I had the privilege of recording him reading his last poem, deeper into the forest, in February 2023, at his home in Vancouver, in one take. I published it 2 days before his passing in both audio and video format. Here is how e117 deeper into the forest ends: (end of e117)You know the voicesAnd you know they cannot shape wordsthat will break the surface over your head.Lights flash in the skies above, Dart through the water. But words do not form.The surface above you,Which you cannot break through.Closes….In the darkness that moves toward youAs if a living creatureThe voices fade away … or seem to fade away,And you know the surface above your headWill not break.The voices beyond the surface Will grow distant and imperfectAnd you, quite alone, will move deeper into the forest.(sound of forest from Kitchener, Ontario) I received this comment from listener Cathie Poynter, a former student and friend of Robin’s, on May 8 about this episode:This is so wonderful to hear, see, feel and read. Beautifully done, the poem, the paintings, the voice, all of the sounds. It is like reaching from beyond, to tell us where, and how to move through further into the depth of the forest: of reality, life, and death. I think it is very profound. It gives me hope that we all must go on this journey. He has captured the experience I feel of time and eternity.I also wrote a one person play during this time called e111 traps, which explores some of the traps in our live :(beginning of e111)(bell, breath and occasional balloon sounds)Me : Have you ever had the feeling that you were being observed?Observer : I’m observing you. Me: Who are you and what are you observing? Observer: Ah, well, I’m a part of you and  I’m observing the traps that you tend to fall into.Me:  Traps?Observer : Do you remember the Facing Human Wrongs course you took during the summer of 2022?Me: Ya.Observer: The one about navigating paradoxes and complexities of social and global change and all those trappings along the way?Me: Ya, I remember. Easier said than done, though.Observer: YaMe: So. What are you observing? Observer : Well, what can I say? I notice that you’ve fallen into a trap called ‘exit fixation’ which is where people feel a strong urge to walk out on an existing commitment. For example, when someone realises that the path they are on is full of paradoxes, contradictions, and complicities. Often their first response is to find an immediate exit in hopes of a more fulfilling and/or more innocent alternative or maybe even  an ideal community with whom to continue this work. Me: Like an escape?Observer: Ya, something like thatI’ve also had the privilege of receiving insightful feedback from listeners about the conscient podcast as a whole, such as this email on May 16 from a friend who asked to remain anonymous:So grateful to have been able to listen and stay close to your work. It’s wonderful to witness, feel and sense into the different layers and movements over the course of the episode and throughout the arc of the season so far. It’s almost as if the story of Sounding Modernity is being stitched by the sounds, walks and episodes and shape-shifting it into this surprising creature (sometimes scary, sometimes funny, sometimes visible, sometimes fictional…). I wonder how else the story of Sounding Modernity will further weave itself (both in/out of control) as you continue to loosen even more of your grips on it, slowly and gently. I like how humor mixes with pain and poetry mixes with interviews, and ocean mixes with toilet shitty waters. The playful and surprising diversity is fun. It’s even clear that you are both struggling and having so much fun, which adds honesty and trust in wanting to go with you on the inquiry. As you approach the middle of your journey, what might be needed at this time to invite further and what might be ready to be released into new soils? May more sounds reveal/be revealed.I responded:Your point about how Sounding Modernity might unfold in/out of control is a good one as I approach the midpoint in the project on July 1. I’m coming to terms with its failings, surprises and unanticipated unlearnings. The isolation in particular has been bewildering.  I think I have already ‘lost my grip on it’, in a good way. I have essentially given up on it being a ‘exploration of the sounds of modernity’ - which was quite pretentious anyway - but rather, as you suggest, has become a portrait of my struggles and discoveries through the sounds of modernity.Let me expand a bit on that idea of isolation. I hoped this project might engage the arts community in dialogue with me and each other about these existential issues, which is why each episode ends with a question. It’s meant to be a prompt or an invitation but not a rhetorical enquiry. My expectation was that it might interest artists and others who are in a similar frame of mind as I am, you know, dealing with eco anxiety and eco grief and so on.For example, on June 7, Jean-Marc Lamoureux wrote about episode e123 maps: When it comes to unknown possibilities for humanity, it is important to acknowledge that our knowledge and understanding of the world are limited. There are areas in science, technology, philosophy, and exploration that remain largely uncharted. New discoveries, innovations, and breakthroughs are possible in these domains and could unveil unforeseen possibilities. It is also important to note that the future is uncertain, and it is challenging to accurately predict what will unfold. Technological advancements, social and political changes, as well as unforeseen events, can all shape the future of humanity in unexpected ways. To address the uncertainty of the future and the challenges of the ecological crisis, it is crucial to foster an open, inclusive, and collaborative approach. Encouraging research, innovation, and exploration across relevant fields, as well as promoting sustainability, environmental conservation, and social justice, are essential. We must also recognize that the future of humanity is closely intertwined with our relationship with the Earth and the other living beings that inhabit it. Taking care of our planet and living in harmony with nature are vital. … Thank you for your attention and for engaging in deep reflection on these important questions.I responded:I agree that we need to keep a positive attitude and that there is much we do not know. I quote writer Rebecca Solnit in episode 19, who said ‘hope locates itself in the premises that we don’t know what will happen and that in the spaciousness of uncertainty is room to act’. My point in e123 was to share my stress (and distress?) about where we are at and where we might be going. … What concerns me most is our deep disconnection with nature, which has been in the works for centuries and is killing us all. … So, Jean-Marc, I don’t think innovation will help if it is built on a self-destructive model. … Certainly doomism does not help, but neither does naïve hope. …So, it’s July 1st 2023 and I’m at the halfway point in this project. 26 episodes done with 25 to go.What’s next?Well, to be honest, and I admitted as much in e123 maps, I really don’t know. (e123 maps section of scrunching piece of paper)So these are the five elements on my map: mitigation, adaptation, tipping point line, survival and recovery, but the problem is that I’m wrong. The map is wrong.  The truth is that I don’t know.  There are endless possibilities and dimensions that I’m not yet able to conceive or understand and yet sometimes, somehow, I can feel them. So I’m done with drawing maps and speculating with thoughts and ideas. Instead, I’m going to listen to the intelligence of my body, to the intelligence of non-human beings around me, to other forms of knowledge and beings that are emerging, and see where that takes me. I thought of erasing it all and returning the funds to the Canada Council and becoming a monk or a hermit.I expressed this sadness and grief at the end of my June blog as follows: I was reminded today of the Gesturing Towards Decolonial Futures collective’s SMDA Compass teaching about how to walk a tightrope between desperate hope and reckless hopelessness. It’s a fine line … but these days I've fallen into a deep cavern of hopelessness but not (yet) recklessly.Speaking of erasure, I notice recently that Catherine Ingram, the brilliant buddhist scholar and philosopher who has deeply influenced my learning journey, wrote on her website, in reference to her seminal essay, Facing Extinction, that:I wrote the long-form essay ‘Facing Extinction’ in early 2019.  Over these past years I have occasionally been able to update the information and perspectives contained therein. However, I am finding that the speed with which the data is changing and the pressing issues that we are immediately facing, such as the exponential rise of artificial intelligence and transhumanism, have made some of this essay obsolete.  I have thus decided to remove it.Her statement reminded of this prescient quote from Facing Extinction that I used in episode 19 :(middle of e19 reality)Love, what else is there to do now?  Here we are, some of the last humans who will experience this beautiful planet since Homo sapiens began their journey some 200,000 years ago. Now, in facing extinction of our species, you may wonder if there is any point in going on.  Catherine, you’re right that love is what we must do, and be. It might be all we can do, and be. So where do we go from here? Is there any point going on?(long silence)What do you think? More importantly…(end of e101 tension)How do you feel now?After quite a bit of thought, I decided to finish what I started, every Sunday, through to episode 153 on December 31st and see what happens. What can I learn and unlearn? What can I slow down or undo? I’m actually quite excited about part 2 of this project. In particular I want to explore the idea of inviting listeners differently and releasing materials into new soils.Thankfully, I don’t have to do this work alone. I have the privilege of working with a number of great collaborators, including content advisors Azul Carolina Duque and Flora Aldridge, translator Carole Beaulieu, communications advisor Jessica Ruano,  web designer Ayesha Barmania and countless friends and colleagues who provide feedback and support. Thank you for your input and trust. I’ll leave you with an excerpt from an episode in development. Thanks for listening and take care.(crows in city with rumble + various nature field recordings)*I am grateful and accountable to the earth and the human labour that provided me with the privilege of producing this episode. (including all the toxic materials and extractive processes behind the computers, recorders, transportation and infrastructure that make this podcast possible).My gesture of reciprocity for this episode is to Living Dharma.

(soundscapes of east vancouver at c. 5am)I can’t sleep tonight. What about you? I love nighttime soundscapes. They’re so bareboned, minimal, like the rumble that you hear now, mostly from Vancouver harbour, but also the industrial area here in east vancouver.So I'm up, recording, listening, figuring out what keeps me up at night, this night, other nights, when I listen and try to understand... Sometimes I feel like I can hear inaudible sounds, like the polar ice caps melting…(homeless person walking by with wagon)But of course what I'm hearing here is the life around me. A homeless person just walked by with their wagon of survival materials and that's what happens at night. Life unfolds and people try to survive. Some are dormant and some are very active, like the raccoons who are doing their work. But back to the ice melting, that's what I find bewildering is this state between awakeness and sleep. A kind of dream state where I'm not sure what exactly I'm hearing and my imagination kind of takes over, so, I do sometimes feel like I'm listening to things like the ice melting up north in the arctic or feeling the trees around me growing. What is the sound of a tree growing? What are those kinds of things. They don't always wake me, but they sometimes keep me up at night in wonder and I worry about this fragile world…Wednesday, May 3rd, 2023, 5.12am. What keeps you up at night?*The soundscape for this episode was recorded at 5.07 am in Vancouver on May 3, 2023.I am grateful and accountable to the earth and the human labour that provided me with the privilege of producing this episode. (including all the toxic materials and extractive processes behind the computers, recorders, transportation and infrastructure that make this podcast possible).My gesture of reciprocity for this episode is to the The Only Animal  theatre company.

(bell)I take stock of climate news by reading the headlines of the excellent daily newspaper, national observer, for example, on Tuesday April 25th, 2023 these were the headlines : ‘We might have a coverup problem’: MPs grill Alberta Energy Regulator CEO over oil sands tailings leaks(sound of dripping and filtering from simplesoundscapes e34 goutte)‘Meet the man turning mushrooms into meat’(quiet field with crickets)‘How the pandemic challenged libertarianism’(crowd at protest)‘Tide-powered clean energy could help West Coast communities ditch diesel’(beach in Cuba and truck in Ottawa)‘Hands off the Greenbelt rally turns up heat on Ford government’(Anti-Ford government greenbelt policy rally in Ottawa)‘A wake-up call to oilsands industry to ensure that all necessary measures are in place to prevent future wildlife tragedies’(loon at lake in Papineau-Labelle reserve and coyotes in Mono, Ontario)‘Shocking new federal research reveals Alberta oilsands may be vastly underestimating greenhouse gas emissions’(hiss of gas meter in Ottawa, pavement machine in Ottawa, drone of ferry in Vancouver)‘What How to Blow up a Pipeline won’t teach you’(Lynn Canyon forest, North Vancouver)How do you respond to climate news?*This episode involves my reading the headlines of the National Observer newspaper on Tuesday April 25th, 2023 accompanied by field recording from my collection. I am grateful and accountable to the earth and the human labour that provided me with the privilege of producing this episode. (including all the toxic materials and extractive processes behind the computers, recorders, transportation and infrastructure that make this podcast possible).My gesture of reciprocity for this episode is to the National Observer news service.