MRI two days ago. Entranced by the sound. Had one few years ago after a head injury and it took them 45 minutes to get me to actually relax enough to lie down in it due to the claustrophobia. They were going to give me a sedative but I didn't dare take it as I didn't know the extent of the injury yet and was afraid to take anything. When I had it this time (for cervical spine) I was totally fine. It was an open MRI so I had peripheral vision which was nice but all that is beside the point. What I really loved was the sound- I did use earplugs but it was still very loud. All these different rhythms that I became quickly entrained to- some took me out of my body and some brought me back. I was also fascinated by the sensation of the radio waves as they moved around my body and came from different angles.
Today, a Sunday, Henry and I were sitting outside in the courtyard at our home in St. Pete playing music together. I was playing guitar and he was playing flute. All of a sudden a huge flock of birds came in and started singing wildly. As long as we played they sang. Then he started playing a quena, a beautiful wooden flute with a very sweet sound that he got in Peru and I was playing the silver flute along with him. The birds seemed to love the harmonies, especially when we were playing intervals of thirds.
It reminded me of when I lived in Jamestown, RI many years ago and had a pottery studio in the barn on the property. It was quite dilapidated and the loft really had no windows left- they were just big openings in the wall! It was full of barn swallows but the first floor where I had my studio had been set up for an auto mechanic some years earlier so it was enclosed, had a huge heater, great shelving and 220 current so I could run an electric kiln in there. One day I was in there throwing pots and I put a Mark Isham tape on (it was the 80's- no CD's yet!). It was a very rhythmic piano piece and the birds in the loft suddenly started singing along right in time with the music. I was so amazed, they just loved that music and whenever I put it on that would happen- and they would not only sing, but they would keep the rhythm of the music.
It also brought back a great memory of Sunday mornings years before that when my exhusband Jonathan and I would get together with our neighbor Dave Nabozny in Newport and play music. It was a Sunday morning ritual for a while- coffee, pot, pastries... and Dave on the guitar, Jonathan on blues harp and me on the flute. My kids were little and they would sit on Jonathan's lap while he played the harp and all in all it was a pretty wonderful time. This time there was no pot (we no longer indulge!) and instead of little kids around there are just flocks of birds to enjoy it along with us, but it was equally as pleasant a morning and in fact I did dip into quite an altered state of consciousness for a while and ended up laughing hysterically.
Today, a Sunday, Henry and I were sitting outside in the courtyard at our home in St. Pete playing music together. I was playing guitar and he was playing flute. All of a sudden a huge flock of birds came in and started singing wildly. As long as we played they sang. Then he started playing a quena, a beautiful wooden flute with a very sweet sound that he got in Peru and I was playing the silver flute along with him. The birds seemed to love the harmonies, especially when we were playing intervals of thirds.
It reminded me of when I lived in Jamestown, RI many years ago and had a pottery studio in the barn on the property. It was quite dilapidated and the loft really had no windows left- they were just big openings in the wall! It was full of barn swallows but the first floor where I had my studio had been set up for an auto mechanic some years earlier so it was enclosed, had a huge heater, great shelving and 220 current so I could run an electric kiln in there. One day I was in there throwing pots and I put a Mark Isham tape on (it was the 80's- no CD's yet!). It was a very rhythmic piano piece and the birds in the loft suddenly started singing along right in time with the music. I was so amazed, they just loved that music and whenever I put it on that would happen- and they would not only sing, but they would keep the rhythm of the music.
It also brought back a great memory of Sunday mornings years before that when my exhusband Jonathan and I would get together with our neighbor Dave Nabozny in Newport and play music. It was a Sunday morning ritual for a while- coffee, pot, pastries... and Dave on the guitar, Jonathan on blues harp and me on the flute. My kids were little and they would sit on Jonathan's lap while he played the harp and all in all it was a pretty wonderful time. This time there was no pot (we no longer indulge!) and instead of little kids around there are just flocks of birds to enjoy it along with us, but it was equally as pleasant a morning and in fact I did dip into quite an altered state of consciousness for a while and ended up laughing hysterically.