Austin — I lie prone on the bamboo floor, head to one side, and sing. Immediately I can feel vibration in my chest and belly. My cheek bones keep the flesh of my face off the floor a bit, so the resonance isn’t as strong there.
The floor provides me a sonic mirror, showing me where the sound is, by giving back its vibration.
I press different parts into the floor, foot, knee, pelvis, sternum, chest, shoulder, cheek. I add tone to each one and hear how each one is different. I play them like piano keys, back and forth, different sequences.
My stomach is dull, the sound of a slow-motion gut punch. My sternum is percussive, assertive, clear. My feet are simple. My knees, short and to the point.
I get lost in this, my body becomes a self-organizing symphony. Time goes by fast.
The floor is on the hard extreme of things to press against. Perhaps air is the next territory to explore.