"Hearing" a city's pulse by seeing a combination of colors and movement.
As a hard of hearing individual, I am sensitive to some noises while oblivious to others, and at the same time, so keyed into the non-verbal forms of communication. The low thrum of a car engine is easy to hear, following a conversation is difficult, and hearing the sounds of the screeching brakes is all but impossible. Throw all that into the environment called a city, and we've got ourselves a number of conflicting synapses firing the same time that we have to sort through--What noise do you specifically listen for? What sounds do you discard as not relevant noise? Do you watch the street or do you read your friend's lips to follow the conversation, and hope that you will be able to avoid any real danger in time?
So many things go into dealing with the noise of cities for hard of hearing individuals, that enjoying the city is difficult and stressful. It's why I've never enjoyed New York City for so many years.
In March 2018, on a chance trip to London, I had the evenings to wander the city, which at those hours is quieter with smaller crowds, and also not as overwhelming to my senses. But there-in lies the problem--if you can't hear the city, how can you understand it's energy? How do you show it's liveliness, and energy-the things that bring its pulse in a way that can be seen when it cannot be heard? How do you communicate the hustle and bustle of a city, and that beauty, in a way that takes out the overwhelming feeling?
The answer lies in the bold and contrasted colors that are synonymous with the existence of life and therefore "sound," while the patterns of the light-streaks from the cars during a long exposure are the city's melody. Combined together, they create the music that is the pulse of the city, in a way that is unique to that city.
And so, by seeking out the quiet corners of New York City, I've fallen in love with its music.