April 14, 2010

It is fucking freezing out here! That’s about all I can think of right now.

Well, the other thing is the frustration of communication. Getting in touch with the mythical Eddie, who should be the easiest to reach, has been so hard. The idea with this piece is to call people interned on other islands and ask them to describe their lives and living/working spaces to me. And to use the audio recordings from these conversations in the piece. Maybe. Well, that's the beginning part of the idea. The idea is a lot more than that, but that's what I need to do right now. So:

First: I couldn’t get an audio line out of my cell phone. Then I could, then it didn’t work, then it did. Then my computer crashed. Then it turned on again. Then I couldn’t call because cell service is so bad out there. That was last week.

Then: I got a new jack, which should work. But it seems to mute my mic and only take the sound of whoever is speaking to me, not of me speaking as well. I tried to test it out by calling K, but her phone is broken and kept disconnecting. I tried calling Y but got voicemail, and she never called back. There’s no one else I can just call and test things on. Either my calling is way too loaded, or we don’t know each other well enough. Or both. That was last weekend and Monday.

Then: I figured the safest thing is just to build a contact mic and attach it to the speaker. This works. So. Then I tried to call Eddie. Except, oh yeah, cell phone service out here is terrible. I think all those helicopters don’t help. So I called and called. Then I finally got through and the operator said she wouldn’t connect me without his birthdate or social security number. So, I called Katy to get this info, except, her phone sucks. She texted it to me, but I was already back in Manhattan. That was Monday.

Then: I tried again today. The mic works, I have the numbers. Her text gives his birthdate, his room, and then says “don’t say who u r.” So I call. And again no cell service. And again. And again. I finally think I found a sweet spot in my studio where there is a signal, and I’m still attached to the cables into my laptop. I marked a big X there with tape. Last week, I marked off a 6 ft x 9 ft area that is the size of a Riker’s Island prison cell, I believe. Or my imagination of its dimensions based on my research. The X is about 2 ft away from the imaginary cell. So I called from there and got through. I just asked for his room and this operator tried to transfer me, but said it’s busy and I should call back in 10 minutes. K said it might take a few tries because all they have is one pay phone for all these guys.

In the meantime, I’m writing this. It’s occurred to me that I should just go on over there and visit, but I am not sure if that’s the point of the piece. Maybe the experience of the frustration of isolation and jilted communication is part of it. What I think is part of it is the talking, describing, and imagining that I am hoping to create through a phone call. We’ll see where this goes. Right now, my piece is a bunch of tape marks on the floor and a series of dropped cell phone calls.