Walk 4: Cocooned vs. Engaged

 

Walk Map: Udall Park

Key: 

Yellow: walking cocooned with music I liked

Red: cocooned with music I didn't enjoy

Green: walking engaged

Walking Cocooned

I. Love. Music. 

or maybe I just love listening to things while I walk. Really, I think the hardest part about this class is the fact I CAN'T listen to my music/audiobooks like I usually do during my walks. 

I honestly related to a few of the ideas mentioned in the reading this week, as I am reliant on my music. 

I crave it. 

I need it. 

I can't live without it. 

    It’s funny to think about how I grew up right in the middle of the shift to music being instantly accessible at our fingertips. When this article was written, I was just seven years old. My parents didn’t get me an iPod until a few years later, but before that, I had a Walkman (a portable CD player) that I constantly carried with me, whether I was in the car, out in the backyard, or riding the school bus.

    My mom, bless her heart, would burn CDs filled with my favorite songs. At seven, my version of “greatest hits” included everything from Natasha Bedingfield’s “Unwritten” to Kelly Clarkson’s “Since U Been Gone” or anything off of the Kidz Bop CDS my mom would rent from our local library. Music had this incredible power to transport me to a place. It amplified everything: the colors I saw, the emotions I felt, and the moods I was in.

    Looking back, listening to music made life feel like I was the star of my own movie. Every moment felt more vivid, more cinematic. And honestly, that’s exactly what it felt like—like I was living in a live-action movie of my life.

So as I began my walk at Udall Park, I started with listening to some of my current favorites. I started with Benson Boone's new album since I hadn't listened to it yet. and then my Spotify DJ took over and fed me some Taylor Swift, Sabrina Carpenter, and Daniel Seavey. 

 

    I walked with no plan. Just to take pictures and enjoy the walk. This park does hold some nostalgic memories, as it was the park I used to play club softball on for 4 years of my life. A few of the photos I took were very much influenced by this, as, like I mentioned, the music makes me feel all sorts of things. I also walked the whole park with music because I kind of forgot what I was supposed to be doing. My brain definitely got lost in the music. 

    As I write this, I notice that I took pictures that ultimately seemed brighter, more "cinematic," or Vsco-y/instagramable (whatever term you prefer). There are more photos with color, recognizable subjects, and landscapes. They very much romanticize the walk more, or maybe that's just in my head because of the music I listened to. 

I remember sitting on this bench. 

 

This brought up so many feelings. Speaking of music, I also want to share that SOMEHOW I used to take my ipod out onto the field to listen to music while I practiced. IDK how I did that without getting yelled at since back then I only had the traditional corded headphones.

My brother used to play soccer on this field. I thought the sky looked so pretty while the sun was rising. 

Captured a bird.

More sunrise pictures. Pretty sure I was listening to Waves by Daniel Seavey at this point. 

Music I didn't like:

    Don't get me started on how much I hated this part of the walk. I was going to cheat and play music that I usually skip cause im just not in the mood for it, but instead I searched "Bad music." I got a range of public playlists—some with actual cringey brainrot music and other playlists of music that's actually good (I forgot the word bad can also mean a good thing).

 

    I listened to maybe 3 songs? I kept skipping them. I seriously could not do it. The photos I took definitely reflect this, as I could not focus. Instead of beautiful photos with some sort of sentimental meaning behind them, you get plants and random photos of cracks and bumps in the ground. 

    On the same search on spotify, I scrolled and found "BAD MUSIC," which is EDM music. I don't hate EDM, but I do believe that it belongs in the background of a house party rather than something you listen to while going on a walk. I decided to switch to this since it was tolerable, but still, I kept forgetting to take photos.

The first song popped up, and my eyes immediately were drawn to the giant "NO" on this sign. I thought this warning sign was reflective of how I was feeling about the music. 

Yup, that's all I took. I could not focus. that last one's even blurry because I couldn't figure out how to focus my iphone on it—so I gave up and walked away. 

Walking engaged:

Walking in an engaged way was definitely a way to let my curiosity lead the walk. I heard more, like the dogs barking at the dog park and the group of 50+ people chatting, laughing, and yelling while playing pickleball. 

Cute dogs at the dog park and a sticker I saw on someone's car near the dog park. 

 

Some aesthetic (but not so great) photos of people playing pickleball. I nodded and said good morning to a few. They probably thought I was so weird for watching.

    I then heard water in the distance and strayed from the original path. I found a splash pad, which i had no idea this park had. If I had had flip-flops, I definitely would have walked through it because it was starting to get so hot. It was a nice surprise to stumble upon.

 

 

 

    This led me to see a jungle gym in the distance. I walked towards it, waving to some older ladies who were sitting on the park bench. They definitely gave me some weird looks, probably trying to figure out what I was doing, as I walked around the playground. There were no kids in sight, so I decided to take a break from walking and swing for a few minutes. 

    As I found my way back to the original path, I stumbled upon an amphitheater. Again, I had no clue this existed. It's been a long time since I've been here, and even when I did visit the park 3 times a week, I only stayed towards the softball fields. 

    The last thing I walked by was a farmers market! I had no idea this was going on today and didn't even notice them setting up. It started at 8, and I began my walk at 6:30. Maybe I just missed seeing people set up? or maybe the music I was listening to blinded me from noticing. 

Last photo I took was because I wanted to go onto the field. 

Create:

I created this visual map to reflect my experience of the walk. I made it with my trackpad, so the lines are rough, but it still gets the point across!

Reflection:

    Walking cocooned felt safe, as it’s something I’ve done for most of my life. Movement, for me, has almost always been associated with music. Whether it was 10-year-old me sitting on the school bus with a Walkman at my side and over-the-ear headphones, riding in the car on road trips with my dad, curating playlists, or listening during workouts and walks around my neighborhood, music has always been there. As Michael Bull discusses in No Dead Air!, our devices have become tools for crafting personalized emotional soundscapes. These soundscapes often mediate and sometimes overshadow our experience of public space. Listening to music I love during my walk through Udall Park made the experience feel cinematic and amplified feelings of nostalgia and emotion. It even influenced the kinds of photos I took, which felt brighter, more intentional, and tied to personal memories. In contrast, forcing myself to listen to music I disliked completely disrupted that flow. I felt agitated, distracted, and disinterested in my surroundings. It took up so much of my mental energy that the photos I took became duller, random, and less thoughtful. This shift shows just how powerfully music can shape our sense of place, depending on our mood, focus, and perception. While my musical bubble often makes life feel like a movie, it can also mask the small surprises, spontaneous moments, and human connections happening all around me.

    The engaged walk, on the other hand, was about truly encountering the space, the people in it, and embracing the unpredictability of the moment. Once I took my headphones out, I was immediately tuned in to real-time sounds: the barking of dogs, laughter and shouts from the pickleball courts, and the splashing water from the nearby splash pad. Although making eye contact and exchanging short greetings with strangers felt awkward at first, it helped me feel more grounded and connected to my surroundings. I wandered more freely, guided by curiosity rather than a playlist. My engaged walk reminded me just how much I might miss when I’m plugged into my listening bubble. While I know I’ll still return to walking with music after this assignment, it made me appreciate the value of being fully present in a space.