Sensory Deprivation - Max Oliver

Max Ernest Oliver

Exp. In Visual Thinking

Amy Jorgenson 

Feb. 1st, 2020

                  Sensory Deprivation: The Feeling of Noise

   

    So for my choice of impairment, I chose to go without sound. There is some reasoning to why I selected this over the other options like the sacrifice of sight. For that option, my right eye is already a bid screwed, so I didn’t care too much on that part of it. Then taste and touch were a bit odd to me personally because I didn’t think either would’ve made a significant impact on my art. I then thought “hey, let’s do a thing where I document and give perspective on what this lack of hearing does to me.

    The first thing I did today was stick in a pair of earbuds in an attempt to close off as much sound as possible. The insulation wasn’t up to the standards I had, so I eventually went and found some earplugs. The improvement was substantial, so much so that one is an entirely different experience from the other. 

I then started to do what the lack of hearing would prevent: listen. I heard mostly the noise of blood rushing through my ears; resembling the noise of a washing machine spinning clothes in a way. It made this sound for pretty much the whole time I had the plugs in my ears. From there, I recalled a demonstration given by Helen Keller where she made a group of deaf students experience sound by having them bite down on part of a piano. It was such an experience for them that they were all crying by the end of it. I thought this was a combination of two things: the science of sounds travelling through space, and a feeling of the forces reacting from it. So I tried to feel for sound.

While I’ve been writing this paper, I even had my plugs in my ears to help me understand this feeling. I can feel the keyboard pushing back and even a part of the clickiness go through my fingertips. It’s so different from just listening to it because you pay more attention to how it feels to push and move. Then walking felt louder than it did when I could hear. The force of me pulling my legs up and down from the ground made what was an everyday event feel so foreign. Then while I was writing this, my sister barged into my room asking me something. I didn’t take the plugs out, and then what resulted from that was her yelling. 

Breathing and talking also felt equally foreign. Everything felt new to me, even though it was all trivial tasks that everyone does on a daily basis. You feel the tiny vibrations you make when air moves out of your body. One could even think that this was a part of the soul, but such a thought is better left with over dramatic poets. 

The last thing I could’ve done is go out. So I did that, and I went around town and did a few things. I went to McDicks to grab a drink and check the schedule, and it was jarring to see how busy it all was while I couldn’t heat the chaos I’m typically used to while working there. Then I drove over to Walmart to pick up some groceries. It was surprisingly peaceful because all the noise that’s typical of a store is all blocked out. I even talked to a few people and had to explain to them what I was doing. Though to my dismay, I had to take the plugs out of my ear because they were starting to hurt. 

All in all, I thought it was an interesting experience. If there was a better way to do this without hurting my ears, I would probably do it again at some point. Hopefully it wouldn’t involve the permanent loss of my hearing, because that wouldn’t be an experience at point; it would be a lifestyle that I’d have to deal with. From there, that’s all I have to say on the matter.