While I'm fixing this snack, I'll keep the loop playing.

And I start experimenting with ways my voice might couch itself inside of the loops.

Step outside the barn and still hear the music coming through my old fender twin am.

Rolling out through the windows.

50-60 yards outside the barn, I can still hear the music all around me.

As I turn the corner to the barnyard, there are two old empty silos that I sometimes play

and whistle in.

They have this extraordinary reverb.

I start to notice that what's coming in through my eyes affects what I hear.

And then how what I hear affects what I see.

And this has a profound effect on the music I'm making.

Andrew Bird is a beloved indie rock multi instrumentalist singer and songwriter, best known

for his unforgettable craft in looping, violin, whistling and voice.

If you've not seen him perform, you must.

In today's meditative story, Andrew describes a creative ear in his life when he trades

a Chicago apartment for a countryside barn.

There he finds a place where he can finally hear himself and the open space around him.

It's a place where old timber and aged windows become the studio for an experimental

new genre of music emerging from inside him.

In this series we blend immersive first person stories with mind-floss prompts to give you

a deep sense of well-being at any time of the day.

From weight-watt and thrive global, this is meditative story.

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