I will go to Antarctica
December 10, 2003
TheGuardian is running diaries of a Craig Vear, visting Antarctica. He, a composer, won a fellowship to record sounds from Antarctica for the creation of a sound collage. (258)
I stumbled across week's five and six today, the editors of the paper had chosen to include it in the RSS feed. (259)
This week's entry has the title Emotional Extremes. It describes two sides of crying: loneliness and exultation. The desolate, lonely places call out as kin to a certain breed of lonely people. Why? (25A)
How is it possible, by any means, to describe the sonic, visual and emotional sensory overload of smashing through ice packs on a day with 24 hours of sun, millpond seas and 150-mile visibility to a crisp horizon as seals, penguins and whales play around the ship? (25C)
and its neighbors remind me of my comments on Mountains of the Mind: (25D)
The mountains, the desert, the oceans, the other, the alien; that which is not in the backyard has the power to halt, if only briefly, our thinking, our power to compare, our only real power. We are left with pure sensing. This is the ecstasy of erasure; the knowing it's all really very big out there. And we, tiny and mortal, are able to see it and see it as new. T (25E)
I want to go Antarctica. (25F)
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