Countless days and nights of this so-called lockdown, I choose not to count them accurately, as tomorrow it will change. Intermittently I have written as a shadow; just a fraction behind the event, trying to write without overthinking, to allow as close a recall of what the experience of what I was hearing was.

Heightened awareness extenuates everyday ordinariness, coughs, clinking cups, cutlery, laughs, sirens and the like. I'm thinking and reflecting on what happens when familiar sonic material is no longer there. In seeking encounters with sound beyond the limits of learnt human listening, I'm attempting to be in places where an ocular centric activity is no longer the most extensive input. To explore what makes the sounds we can hear, and consider the reasons why we listen, and how we choose to recall, remember or forget. Engaging ongoing dialogue to challenge what we think we know, to challenge what I think I know.

'Knowing' as a way of relating to feelings or perspectives that can be free, albeit momentarily, of meaning dictated by words or collective agreement. The reach of sound forms a conduit to be with the instance of such moments when access to spoken language is secondary. A 'Knowing' which does not read or speak, it cannot hear, it doesn't smell; it only feels like something in me. Experienced as a beat, a flutter, something like a murmuring, a slip, a sight out of sight, voices heard through walls, fleeting upon fleeting, often fast, sometimes sustained by itself. It ticks to its beat, in and around itself.