By Ethan Maurice | February 18, 2025
One of the coolest things about writing about my interests on the internet and hosting an annual WONDER WANDER is a spectacular increase in my luck surface area, or as I like to call it: surface area for serendipity.
Back in November, fellow camera-wielding friend and wonderwanderer Kevin sent me an out-of-the-blue text message. Could Richard, a legally-blind-totally-tapped-into-it sound healer we met capturing Festival of Yes, crash at my place for a weekend, and would I want to help film some sound baths?
I'd felt a particular resonance with Richard — college baseball player turned Peace Corps volunteer turned federal investigator, and longtime yogi that had an ocular stroke tragically taking a good deal of his vision, but also prompting a deep dive into vibration and sound — his life and energy inspired mine.
And now, six months and a thousand miles away, with one text from a friend, Richard was coming to crash and hang at my place for the weekend.
One of my favorite quotes ever is a one-liner from Bill Murray:
““I try to be available for life to happen to me.””
Richard just happening to hang at my house for the weekend, to me, is prime example of surface area for serendipity and Bill Murray's words in action.
Fast forward to a Friday in January. I pedal my bike home for lunch after working the morning in a coffee shop, and there's Richard in my living room.
A beautiful and spontaneous happening, totally unpursued.
We had a grand philosophical time talking life, creativity, and how reality is truly stranger than fiction. Happy to just jam and do his own thing, literal good vibrations flowed from the living room throughout the weekend. We had some great meals, walks, and a beautiful sunset on the roof.
When Sunday morning came, Richard, Kevin, and I, along with a small gang of wonderwanderers, headed out to the Verde River northeast of Phoenix for a day of recording riverside sound baths.
Along the desert river, soul-stirring sound baths flowed from Richard. I flew drone, recorded B-roll, and shot portraits. Kevin handled the main angles, audio, and over the following weeks cut this gorgeous edit, visually blurring the lines between it all:
At one particular point in Richard's first sound bath, something rang deep within me, and as I sat monitoring my camera recording, tears streaked my face for no rational, but purely felt reason.
While Richard’s been playing sound baths at festivals, accompanying yoga classes, and a variety of intentional gatherings across the Pacific Northwest for some time, now armed with some sweet audiovisuals, Richard recently built and launched a platform for sharing his work, Thrum Soundworks.
Serendipitously graced by Richard’s vibrations for a weekend, I sense his sound work has a bright future and look forward to hearing the dude soar.
