I think I read about this room, many many years ago. It captivated me. I think I read that somebody had spent time in it and began to be aware of a strange high-pitched electrical sound, which he guessed was his nervous system.
I did hear what I was told was the blood rushing through my veins--and also I could hear my skin crackling as I smiled (alone in the dark, like a maniac), AND, I swear, my eyelids opening and closing. There's a legend that John Cage had a similar experience, but I don't think it was in the same chamber.
I've just read your part 2. It didn't disappoint. What a fascinating experience.
I think the previous account I read was about John Cage's experience. It was many years ago that I read it. So long ago that I somehow felt I was the only person who had noticed it. As if we all, in some way, spend our lives in isolation tanks. Or perhaps that is the experience of reading.
It's funny that now we have all these relationships with people that are read—email, social media, text—replacing seeing each other, even hearing each others' voices on the phone. It's like we get some of the deprivations of solitude without the benefits, our solitude is noisy and distracting.
We do! Who knows what the long-term effects on us are. I like to think they make us more thoughtful and empathetic. I know I've always been a person who's louder on the page than in real life.
I think I read about this room, many many years ago. It captivated me. I think I read that somebody had spent time in it and began to be aware of a strange high-pitched electrical sound, which he guessed was his nervous system.
I'm looking forward to seeing if you felt it too!
I did hear what I was told was the blood rushing through my veins--and also I could hear my skin crackling as I smiled (alone in the dark, like a maniac), AND, I swear, my eyelids opening and closing. There's a legend that John Cage had a similar experience, but I don't think it was in the same chamber.
I've just read your part 2. It didn't disappoint. What a fascinating experience.
I think the previous account I read was about John Cage's experience. It was many years ago that I read it. So long ago that I somehow felt I was the only person who had noticed it. As if we all, in some way, spend our lives in isolation tanks. Or perhaps that is the experience of reading.
Thank you! To me, reading feels like it's a way to connect--or an attempt to connect.
That's why I can't get rid of books I've enjoyed. It would be like throwing away a friend.
It's funny that now we have all these relationships with people that are read—email, social media, text—replacing seeing each other, even hearing each others' voices on the phone. It's like we get some of the deprivations of solitude without the benefits, our solitude is noisy and distracting.
We do! Who knows what the long-term effects on us are. I like to think they make us more thoughtful and empathetic. I know I've always been a person who's louder on the page than in real life.