Sound diaries (or sound journal) seem so straight forward….obvious even, yet few of us engage with them. Whilst they are becoming an emerging practice in soundscape studies (however you define that), their potential to not only transform our own everyday sonic encounters, facilitate a lifetime or sonic memories but also provide a new understanding of the impact of sound within our lives through sonic reflection. The simple act of sonically documenting and interpreting the subtle resonances in recordings that we make and how they serve to colour our ordinary routines, sound diaries can provide us with new and fresh insight into the cultural, emotional, and spatial textures of our surroundings. This simple method which requires little in terms of time or equipment can also highlight the often-overlooked significance of sound in our lives, awakening us to a deeper sense of place and identity.
The process of creating a sound diary (perhaps even alongside a normal diary/journal)invites us to capture and reflect on the fleeting moments of our daily lives, half-remembered echoes and whispers which permeate and float through our lives, our cities, our homes, and our imaginations. By capturing and recording within the context of a diary, as with a written diary, it is possible to reflect on and to grasp the sonic qualities and moments of existence that so often pass us by unnoticed and then forgotten forever. Sounds which influence, control, shape, emotional affect or annoy us, yet serve to subconsciously shape who we are, how we feel, control our stress or calm. It is through listening, recording and then re-listening, that we can start to get a deeper understanding and sense of the world and our place in it. By moving away from a state of passive hearing towards a more intentional form of listening reframes our engagements with the environment, ourselves, our communities and asks us to look at how sound conditions our spatial experiences, influences our day to day and then longer term emotional experiences and feelings whilst resonating in our memory.
The idea of a sound diary has its roots in a wider soundscape studies, as an attempt to develop methods which cultivate a deeper relationship with our sonic surroundings. R Murray Schafer in Soundscape: Our Sonic Environment and the Tuning of the World (1994) asked the read to consider (or remember perhaps) that listening is not just a sensory faculty; it is a mode of inquiry into the world. Therefore to recording and document one’s sonic experiences is to make public (which could be simply to oneself or possibly to others), the unnoticed gurgling of the fridge, the subtle swish of a car driving past on a damp piece of tarmac, the quiet murmur of a neighbour’s TV through the walls. These seemingly trivial, often subconscious sonic events, when acknowledged and engaged with can become significant clues in deciphering how we inhabit the environment, space and time. The sound journal offers us a structured (or potentially unstructured) portal through which we may assess, reflect on and remember our own presence in the world, through recordings, scribbled notes, and.or recollected impressions. We might also think of the sound diary as a collection of memories from our everyday sonic journeys.
Barry Truax (2001), who worked along side Schafer on the World Soundscape Project, theorised that acoustic communication is the interplay between sounds, listeners, and environments (this interplay becomes a definition or approach to soundscape). The very act of noting down the sound of the fridge, morning bird calls or the commute to work, starts to give us heightened awareness of place and personal and community rhythms. On reflecting of the ‘urban soundscape’ that we recorded we might realise that the vibrance of city life is not always simply ‘noise’ or an impersonal din but a assemblage of voices, machines, nature, and existential. Our sound diary therefore becomes a method and a tool which not only catalogues and archived what we hear and have heard but can also helps us grasp the social, cultural, and political entanglements that underlie every sonic event and their often subtle inperceptible impact on our own feelings, emotions and mood. They may also be simply the recording of something which made us laugh or randomly abstract, sounds which bring happiness or intrigue.
However, a sound diary shouldn’t just be through of as simply a catalogue of sounds, of course we could just make a range of recordings: 30 to 60 seconds each, day after day, as our own archive of transient noises. Yet I would argue that the deeper potential of sound journaling lies in how these sound evoke personal reflection and memory. There is something exhilarating about picking up a reording device (be it a phone or field recorder) each day, and perhaps capturing the ‘silence’ of one’s kitchen (which of course will have a multitude of subtle sounds present perhaps yet to be observed or acknowledged) or a peculiar sonic marker on the daily commute. These sonic fragments are already a part of our daily lives and serve to for a unacknowledged narrative of our life. By acknowledging, recording and then re-listening the diary care reveal how each location resonates in its own unique manner, for example the reverberance of a corridor’s which reminds us of a childhood home (just like certain smells) or a train announcement that triggers a memory of different days (happy, sad or indifferent) or different journeys to different destinations. It is in such moments, that the sound diary becomes a personal cartography, charting the ephemeral realms of our own existence where public sound and private sound meet.
““The map is not the territory””
The sound diary and it’s practice is therefore versatile enough to serve as an ethnographic, anthropological, or indeed historical record. For example, in a rural context, the change of seasons may be sonically mapped through the sounds of machinery, insects, metrological conditions to name a few. We may also keep sound diaries to study the cultural and communal significance of certain rituals or events throughout the year (Halloween, Bonfire Night): the ringing of a locals church’s bells or the sounds of a disappearing of a street market. We may also use them for documenting design development (as I do as a sound designer), noting the emergent sonic qualities of a new sound or soundscape as it evolves over time. In each case, the sound diary becomes a space where the ephemeral becomes tangible, if only through a brief recorded snippet.
Capturing sounds binaurally using a bag and omni-microphones as part of a sound diary.
Some of us may turn to the journaling apporach to capture the everyday textures of home, document the slow change in a household’s soundscape as children grow, appliances change, or neighbours move in and out. Some may track the daily commute (something I do, in particular the announcements in train stations) to see how it shapes our mental and emotional states over months and years and also as a document to sounds which has long since disappeared (for example the clacker board signs at many train stations). I have also suggested that some might want to undertake a sound diary as part of a creative project, for example keeping record of a composition’s evolving structure, or the iterative design of a sound pack intended for film or game audio. A sense of temporality is inherent in the practice, keeping diaries over time, we can be struck by how certain sonic elements mark entire chapters of existence, like references in a personal biography. In that way, a sound diary can provide us with a feeling of continuity; and provides a stable anchor as our days slip by .
For educators invested in sonic pedagogy, these sound diaries provide us with a practical exercise in gaining am awareness of how we listen and why it matters. Asking students (particularly early learners) to record and describe sounds over a set period often transforms their engagement with the world around them. We can become more alert to overlooked details, more sensitive to subtleties and differences, and often more questioning of the power and contextual relations which shape public and private acoustics. A quick recording of a busy street might lead to discussions of urban planning, noise pollution, or social stratification. The low frequencies emanating from construction sites can spark debates on labour, gentrification, or the shifting boundaries of a local community. Thus, the sound diary can spark a form of critical consciousness, bridging the gap between personal perception and broader societal currents.
The practical
The form of a sound diary can vary greatly, it can be what you want it to be. Diaries may be made up just from recordings using portable recording devices/smartphones or could take the form of descriptive writing; trying to capture timbre, rhythm, and emotion through writing (I think this is hard!). They may also take the form of personal or invented idiosyncratic systems of notation, sketching waveforms, scribbling lines, or developing symbolic personal codes. The beauty of this method is that there is no definitive approach, the diary’s open-endedness is part of its appeal. All that really matters is consistency and a willingness to reflect on what is captured. Personally when working on a sound diary, I aim for short daily recordings of thirty to sixty seconds, though these can be longer or more variable depending on how I feel or what I am recording. It may also vary depending on professional need, for example if I am developing a sound pack, I would make several tens or hundreds of recordings a dayl.
There is a deeply humanistic quality in preserving these ephemeral sound events. We often think of diaries as textual spaces, brimming with confessions, stories, worries, gossip, anxieties and hopes. Adding sound into the equation sound transforms the diary into a multi-sensory journal which can illuminate the whole galmut of lived experience. Sound Diaries invite us to ask how certain sound form communal and personal identities or how ‘silence’ speaks volumes about alienation and longing. By keeping a sound diary, you can learn to appreciate that each sonic trace carries within it a wealth of meaning.
Another consideration is “how long do I do it for?“ It is of course entierly up to you, you might choose to embark upon a two-week trial, a year, forever, bi-weekly, you set the parameters, but do so with intention. You should let your choices or time, approach and method reflect a concept, such as mapping the sonic contours of the journey to work, or tracking the gradual shift in the environment of your home as autumn comes along. Do it long enough and you will see that patterns emerge which may spark new ideas or fresh insights, sharpening your sensitivity to the overlooked. You move from drifting through the soundscape, ears half-shut, to living a life more sonic attuned (as Schafer would have wanted!).
A word of caution: it might be tempting to consider a sound diary as a exercise in just recording something every day, filling the recording with sound upon sound without deeper thought. While the field recorder or smartphone offers a great advantage in rapidly capturing fleeting sonic moment, the real value from this process comes in pausing to consider what to record, and what those sounds signify. Are they markers of place or of habit, signs of cultural identity, echoes of personal likes and dislikes, textures or signifiers, sounds of collective memory? Do you hear them with a sense of positivity or negativity? Do the sounds you record speak to a longing for a different way of living, or do they ground you in the present moment? The sound diary is not simply a data collection; it is a mirror for reflection on our environment and our selves. Keeping a diary is a small, persistent gesture asserting that we can pause, listen carefully, and reflect. As time unfolds, the sound diary takes on new life, as the diary realigns perception, transforming everyday hearing into active, reflective listening. Each entry is a permanent record of a moment that would otherwise dissolve into the continuum of forgotten time.
In the end, the discipline of the sound diary is not merely about archiving sound, it is about cultivating a listening practice. The practice invites us to step out of the mental overload of modern life, to pause and let our ears wander, a mental derive. In this wandering, we might find something more than idle curiosity: a sense of connection to the immediate and the past, to the personal and the shared, to the mundane and the transcendent. And once we begin to hear in this manner, the world reveals itself, as John Cage’s 4’33” demonstrated, as a living composition,
Sound Diary Method
The following outlines a method centred on attentive listening, regular recording, and reflective analysis, grounded in key insights from soundscape studies.
Conceptual Orientation
Begin by deciding on the aims of your sound diary. Decide whether you want to focus on a specific theme or context, such as domestic sounds or urban commutes, or pursue a wider survey of your sonic environment, through time or place. This conceptual framing will guide how you will collect, organise, and interpret the recordings.Tools and Preparation
Choose a recording device that suits your context, whether a small portable recorder, a smartphone or a full immersive recording rig (probably not the best option!). It can be useful to also prepare a simple note-taking method, perhaps a pocket notebook or a digital text document (I use Notes), where you could jot down and think from you immediate thoughts, locations, times, weather conitions to your emotional state.Daily or Regular Practice
This is the key part of the process, try to adopt a consistent schedule for gathering sound entries. Based on the context these may be daily recordings at set times (morning, midday, evening), or at a time where something of note comes into your aural world. What matters most is forming a habit of listening. For more in-depth projects, you might set aside one day a week for a more indepth listening and recording exploration. .Focused Listening and Recording
Take a few moments to tune in to your surroundings before you press ‘record’ or begin scribbling notes, shift your mental state from passive hearing to active listening, what is going on in the place you are at?. Try to capture both foreground and background elements if you are documenting place and time, try to capture sonic focus if objects are your goal. If you hear something that triggers a memory or an emotional reaction, write it down (and try and record it if it hasn’t passed).Descriptive and Reflective Notation
As soon as possible after capturing a sound, write down (or voice record) what you heard. Include as much detail as you can (see above) such as location, time of day, dominant sound sources, and any perceived mood or social context. Try to also reflect on your reaction to the sound/soundscape: were you unsettled? comforted? reminded of a memory? Good or bad, happy or sad. It is these objective and subjective responses which add the real depth to your sound diary, making it into a more holistic record of your engagement with the sonicenvironment.Archiving and Organisation
Develop a system for labelling, dating, and storing your recordings. If you get serious about this University Category System (UCS) might be worth looking into. I also personally create folders or playlists arranged by theme then in chronological order and then incorporate metadata such as tags (e.g. “industrial,” “natural,” “crowded,” “tranquil”) to link related sounds and help find them if I can’t remember the day.Iterative Analysis and Reflection
After a set period, a week, two weeks, a month, or longer, find sometime to review your diary. Listen back to the recordings while reading your accompanying notes. Do you notice how your perceptions may have changed over time and consider how these shifts might reflect broader personal, cultural, or environmental factors? What do you get from this exercise? (Please do email me or if you want leave comments in the section below) This reflective step not only enhances your understanding of your own sonic awareness but also provides a basis for deeper thoughts or creative projects.Ethical and Contextual Awareness
Although you are creating a personal sound diary be mindful that you might be capturing sounds that contain the voices of others or potentially sensitive material. Anonymity can be protected by omitting specific identifiers in your notes, or by recording ambient textures rather than distinct conversations, even if these don’t seem important to you. If you want to share your diary publicly, consider whether consent and permissions are necessary. Maintaining respect for privacy and cultural norms ensures a responsible approach to the sonic exploration of shared spaces.Revisiting and Evolving
A sound diary is not rigid but a living method, one which you take full ownership over. You may decide to refine the approach or adopt a new focus after reviewing initial findings. You might use your diary as the basis for compositional practice for example. In this way, the diary can evolve into a more ambitious project, whether a cultural study, an archival resource, or an artistic endeavour.
This methodology brings together the observational precision of soundscape analysis with a reflective, human-centred approach to enaging with the sound environment (soundscape if you will), recognising that every diary entry is part of a wider document of history, memory, and sensory perception. By incorporating elements of daily practice, focused listening, thorough archiving, and iterative reflection, you can create a piece of personal work which reveals and studies the world and the self.
References and Further Reading
– Schafer, R.M. (1994) The Soundscape: Our Sonic Environment and the Tuning of the World. Rochester, VT: Destiny Books.
– Truax, B. (2001) Acoustic Communication. Westport, CT: Ablex Publishing.
– LaBelle, B. (2006) Background Noise: Perspectives on Sound Art. London: Bloomsbury.