A drop in energy. I am at my most vulnerable to infection. There is also an inner pebble of emotion that needs to be thrown; a complexity of feeling that must be expressed. I want to kick, punch, head bang. But I am impotent before these options. I come to know that my only leverage on release is vocal. I ask Mike to drive me to the north end of the beach at dusk. The beach there is deserted. The sky is heavy with rainless cloud, silver-gray light seeps through to meet an equally steely ocean. Low, sombre waves tumble incessantly as the sea sucks itself back and back. I stand before the expanse. Puny-me. I call through the octaves slowly, quietly at first letting sound fill me: sweet, ugly, raucous,wild. I build to bellow. I am haunting curlew, lamenting dingo, angry walrus. As my sound-courage grows I find the level of expressive need. A visceral, gravelly roar erupts and amplifies. I growl into the sea, shaking the sound out, jigging and growling. Living the sound wash I clear and clarify. The sea flops at my feet. ‘See if I care’ it says.