The Bionic Sound Project

this girl’s journey to sound

The Third Day Of School Wednesday, September 6, 2006

I really like my Poetry class because it is the perfect environment for listening practice. I can read along from the book, as we take turns to read the selection. They try to incorporate emotion and flow as they read the poem, which helps make it more animated and gives me a challenge, instead of a sanitized version of speech. My teacher also speaks very clearly, and the class is relatively small yet interactive, as opposed to my other classes.

I had to write a poem for homework, and I scrapped my first revision (of a poem I wrote last year but always wanted feedback on), as I realized it was based on the world of sound with my hearing aid. I was inspired by listening to music last night with the CI and trying to come up with more imagery. I now have a whole new world of sound accessible to me, available for inspiration, because it is my new world that I am busily exploring.

Music is the insistent whoomp of the bass, as it sets the pace
Music is the mournful wail of the sax, not wanting to be left back
Music is the staccato raps of the snare, living without a care
Music is the pluck of the guitar, reminding us it’s still the star
Music is the tandem of the ivory keys, which just wants to please

I also started my first day back with my old job, working with Sheila. Part of my job entails running between the two offices. When I went in, it was sunny, and 10 minutes later, the skies opened up and literally poured. It was the first time I have been caught in the rain with the CI. It is also the first time that I have gone for a run, which was difficult, because the CI bounces everywhere and I don’t want it to fall off my ear. I’m still battling the recent unsteadiness/dizziness, which did not help me achieve the goal of getting from point A to B, without being drenched.

Didn’t have a lot to do at work, so I did some schoolwork, and I could hear the ticking of the clock on the wall as it slowly counted down the minutes, and it was maddening, listening to the constant “tick, tick, tick”, repeatedly punctuating the silence.

It made me feel like it was a scene from episode “all things” (The X-Files), or one of those other movies, where time slows down, but you still hear/see the pace of time, the throbbing heartbeat as it pulses forward.

Finally, my classmate, who also has a CI, found a way to share some CI love with me, which involves knocking the magnet off my head when I least expect it. She said she had been waiting for that opportunity ever since I got the CI. *rolls eyes*

I also saw a former teacher of mine from my sophomore year, who got a CI within the last year to two. I was always impressed with her for being a teacher in a classroom full of hearing students, able to maintain order and keep a tight ship, not taking any misbehavior from the students, commanding respect in the classroom, and still be “hearing” enough to interact with the hearing world, as compared to me. If it was me, I would have been scared to do that, unsure of being able to hear everything that was going on and understanding everything, without an interpreter.

She struck me as being hard-of-hearing (I’m not sure what her hearing background is), but she has always been a model of what I would like to achieve with my own hearing loss/be like in the workplace. I was really surprised when she got the CI, and knowing how well she (seemed) to do with the hearing that she had, and the fact that she took that leap to do so, almost seemed to tell me that it would be okay if I got it too.


How Much I Love Music Tuesday, January 13, 2004

Filed under: creative,deaf,feelings,listening,music — Allison @ 8:33 pm

And this is one of those moments where I realize how much I really *LOVE* music.

And how much of an influence it has on my life.

I like the way the words, the melody, the rhythm, the lyrics, how it all comes together.

I like
…the banging of the drums in the background, the sizzling sounds of the synthesizer, the the pure tones of the piano and the dings and rings of the high-pitched instruments.

…how the music goes from the highs and the lows. The building up of the tension, the release.  The crescendos and the diminuetos. The changing age of machines coming up with more and more complicated backbeats, rhythms, and drum patterns.

…how the singers wrap their voices around the words, making them soft as silk, smooth as velvet, rough like a rock, scratchy like a needle on a record, or as golden as the voices of angels. They can scat sing, beatbox, rap, screech, and imitate, or just make sounds. And all the voices rise together in harmony… making the purest sound… a togetherness, an intimacy of its own kind.

…how so many different sounds, even everyday sounds can be incorporated into music. It doesn’t have to be fancy, an official instrument, as long as it makes noise.

…how one note, one melody, one section of the music can just jump up and grab you and your attention. It just makes you sit up and pay attention.

…how that one note hits a sweet spot deep down inside you.

Just about anything you can think of, can be made into music. (well, there are some exceptions, but bear with me here.)

Listening to music makes me feel so alive, so inspired, so uplifted (especially when it’s good music)

If you close your eyes, you are taken on a journey, the highs and lows of the hills, climbing the mountains of the crescendos, keeping up with the beat of the music, the pulse of the life, and the ideas come, and they keep on coming. It doesn’t have to be words, it can be an image.

I can’t express it in words. I can only feel it. And I want you to feel it with me. My soul cries out for the kindred spirit to tap into my energy and take the feeling that I get from the music.

I never ever want to lose my music. It is my life. It is my blood. It is one thing that keeps me alive.

Even though I’m deaf, I don’t let it stop me. It is my passion. I embrace and welcome it with open arms.