The Wind

Fil Corbitt, The Wind

A podcast about listening made at a handmade desk in the mountains.

  1. EPISODE 1

    The Circumambulation of a Sacred Mountain

    Folks of many religious persuasions have ways of doing it, sometimes around or between temples, sometimes encircling specific mountains, like the Kora of Mt Kailash in Tibet. In the 1960s, poets Gary Snyder, Philip Whalen and Allen Ginsberg began annual circumambulations of Mt. Tamalpais in the SF bay area. Snyder learned the practice from Zen Bhuddists in Japan, and the three explained their walk as “opening of the mountain.” Though there is at least one Tibetan group that calls for a counter-clockwise direction, most clearly denote the clockwise movement an important directional distinction, to avoid throwing order into chaos. So as the sky illuminates to the East I head clockwise, down the mountain. Thank you to Michael P. Branch who read the Mark Twain passage (Highly recommend his book How to Cuss in Western) Mark Maynard, Eleanor Qull, Scott Mortimore, Mike Corbitt and all of the folks who’ve helped support the show this year, there are too many to list.MUSIC: Two tracks from Haana Lee’s new album called Textures Emily Pratt, who makes music as Howls Road Friend of the show Yclept Insan and a few tracks from the Public Domain through Free Music Archive. Further reading: The Way Around by Nicholas Triolo • The Old Ways by Robert Macfarlane • The Living Mountain by Nan Sheperd Thank you for being here, and keep listening. To support The Wind, become a patron at www.patreon.com/thewind Subscribe at thewind.org

    50 min
  2. 2025-12-08

    Year 6 • Prologue

    Subscribe | Patreon | Website I’ve been thinking about the radio About the towers on the mountain And the people far away who choose what’s on them. Some Scared and angry and building bunkers, the men who own the ways we communicate,  all just a line item somewhere in the lowest dustiest corner of a spreadsheet.   Some of this thought path has been paved — the short postcard form of this program is now on a dozen terrestrial stations and counting. Though these are of course of the public radio variety, with different gate keepers.   Though the gates abound, it seems that swinging them open is more likely than pleasing the algorithms: the response controlled, non-human machine-learned attention-eating beasts that have snuck into our dining rooms, our living rooms our bedrooms, the place where I stack my books.   But the place where my desk is, out in the mountains, still feels a bit untethered, even as I tether it with my presence. Likewise it is Not untouched, as there is no such thing, as it’s all touching each other all the time.   Here by default, the sound is an archive. The artisan well and all the willows that the out of place water has fostered, how the long grass it’s grown moves in the wind. The missing limbs and branches of trees long felled, the planes and cars and whirring of snow makers on distant but earshot mountains. All the story of the place in wave form   This year I’ve been digging into my own archives, examining the sounds I’ve collected, and assembling them in new ways. As the access to information feels increasingly precarious, flooded, owned, bent…I’ve been imagining new networks of distribution, looking for some that others have built; networks that flow both ways. I’ve been examining my own archive of ideas and audio and, somewhere on the edge of the landscape that the algorithms can just barely reach, I keep a folder of sounds it could never understand. What does wind —or a wind harp—or an idea that can’t quite be explained, what does that sound like to an artificial ear?   Probably nothing. But to us, it can sound like everything.   I’m Fil Corbitt And this is year 6 of the wind To support The Wind, become a patron at www.patreon.com/thewind Subscribe at thewind.org

    5 min
5
out of 5
11 Ratings

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A podcast about listening made at a handmade desk in the mountains.

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