Blog 2: SoundWalk
On a typical Tuesday morning, after my 9 am class, I usually go for coffee at the local Dunkin’ Donuts and find a comfortable place to sit before heading to work. Today I decided to leave my routine aside for a day and go for a walk on Lexington Avenue. At first I felt uncomfortable and alone to walk around the city without listening to music. But as I walked I began to observe and listen to my surroundings.
The first sound I heard was the unbeatable and familiar rhythm of the accelerated cars, along with the occasional honking of other cars demanding an improvement in the already congested traffic. But as loud as the traffic was, it did not intervene with the many conversations I encounter. Some of these conversations were in English, others were in Spanish, and others were in languages I did not understand, but could disguised them to be pleasant at the sound of laughter. The fast and sometimes soft sounds of my sneakers, along with the clicking of other shoes, rushing to make their way through the busy streets were sounds I would have never paid attention to, until today. I also heard the sweeping of the brooms from sidewalk to sidewalk as workers began their day. Along with the soft classical melodies coming from a couple of small stores, awaiting its customers. While I waited for my light to cross on 63rd street, I heard the grinding sounds of the subway escalator and the familiar MTA’s voiceover saying, “please face forward while riding the escalator… Have a nice day.”
As I was nearing 59th Street, the sidewalks seemed more crowded, the voices of people echoed in every corner, the honking of cars became more consistent, that not even the load thuds of a truck unloading big boxes of merchandise near me could overpower it. At the same time I heard the upbeat music coming from Bloomingdales, inviting people to go inside its elegant doors. I also noticed, at the sound of the music people turned to peak inside the store, while others were mesmerized by the fashionable displays on the glass windows. After walking around for an hour, I concluded my sound walk at the 59th street train station, which felt warm and familiar, after experiencing the sounds of a typical day in New York City.
The first sound I heard was the unbeatable and familiar rhythm of the accelerated cars, along with the occasional honking of other cars demanding an improvement in the already congested traffic. But as loud as the traffic was, it did not intervene with the many conversations I encounter. Some of these conversations were in English, others were in Spanish, and others were in languages I did not understand, but could disguised them to be pleasant at the sound of laughter. The fast and sometimes soft sounds of my sneakers, along with the clicking of other shoes, rushing to make their way through the busy streets were sounds I would have never paid attention to, until today. I also heard the sweeping of the brooms from sidewalk to sidewalk as workers began their day. Along with the soft classical melodies coming from a couple of small stores, awaiting its customers. While I waited for my light to cross on 63rd street, I heard the grinding sounds of the subway escalator and the familiar MTA’s voiceover saying, “please face forward while riding the escalator… Have a nice day.”
As I was nearing 59th Street, the sidewalks seemed more crowded, the voices of people echoed in every corner, the honking of cars became more consistent, that not even the load thuds of a truck unloading big boxes of merchandise near me could overpower it. At the same time I heard the upbeat music coming from Bloomingdales, inviting people to go inside its elegant doors. I also noticed, at the sound of the music people turned to peak inside the store, while others were mesmerized by the fashionable displays on the glass windows. After walking around for an hour, I concluded my sound walk at the 59th street train station, which felt warm and familiar, after experiencing the sounds of a typical day in New York City.
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