Author: Eric Nguyen

I’ve always wondered what it would feel like to stand in the middle of the forest on a misty morning and see Totoro appear from between the trees. There’s something peaceful about him. Something that makes you feel like everything is okay, even when it isn’t.

Sometimes, I would sit outside, thinking he’d come by. That he’d stand there with his big leaf umbrella, looking as calm as ever. I thought, maybe he was just hiding because I didn’t know the right way to call him. I thought if I could just make the right sound… not a human voice, but something natural and beautiful… He might just peek out from behind the trees, curious. Sometimes I’d sit on my porch during light rain, listening to the drops tapping the roof and the ground, imagining Totoro sitting next to me with his little leaf hat, blinking slowly, just existing there. No words needed. Then he does this.

For this audio challenge, Character Bird Calls, the task was to create a “call” for a character using only sounds. No words, no voices. At first, I thought about using wind chimes or temple bells, but the more I thought about Totoro’s world, the more I realized he wouldn’t come to artificial sounds. Totoro feels like the kind of spirit who listens to the unique parts of nature. He likes the sounds of things that are alive and not man made.

So I created what I call the Totoro’s Nature “Whistle”.

I started by making each sound play on its own. First, I added the quiet, irregular sounds of two acorns dropping onto the forest floor. Then came the soft patter of rain falling on leaves because Totoro always appears when it rains. After that, I brought in the gentle forest water stream. Finally, I added the sound of wind brushing through the forest, rustling bushes and branches. It’s background noise if you don’t pay attention to it. Once I had each sound placed separately, I began layering them together. I stacked the acorn drops, the rain, the stream, and the wind so that all four played at the same time. To my surprise, even without heavy edits, they blended beautifully. It felt so peaceful and natural like I was sitting in Totoro’s forest and listening to the world breathe around me. I believe Totoro would respond to this call not because it doesn’t feel demanding. It blends with what he loves, which is nature’s hidden music. He’s curious about anything that feels alive and real. Maybe he would appear holding his umbrella above his head, blinking those big eyes at me in that slow calm way. Maybe he wouldn’t say anything. He would just stand there for a while. And that would be enough.

I don’t usually oversleep. But last Thursday was different.

The night before, I stayed up almost until 3 AM reviewing slides for my upcoming cybersecurity quiz. My annoying eyelids wouldn’t just stay up for some reason as I scrolled through my notes under the blanket. I thought I could read just one more page before sleeping.

When I woke up the next morning, it wasn’t gentle. At first, I was breathing in my sleep, stuck in some dream I’m not going to remember anyways. An alarm started blaring next to me, shaking me awake. Did you know? I’m sensitive to loud noises while I sleep. You know what they say, “My heart rate jumped so fast I thought it would burst through my chest.” I tried to strike the alarm with all my might, but I moved too quickly. I ended up rolling off my bed, hitting the floor with a thud. Half my body landed on my guitar case. It kind of hurts.

My brain was still foggy, but that’s okay. Adrenaline took over. I scrambled to my feet, stumbled toward the closet, and pulled the sliding door open. I started rummaging through shirts and hoodies, yanking hangers left and right. Everything felt rough and cold under my fingers. I grabbed the first hoodie that didn’t look completely wrinkled and threw it on.

Then I spotted my backpack on the floor. I rushed over, unzipped it, and checked the contents. I shoved it back inside before zipping the bag up. I hurriedly slipped on my shoes by the door, tying the laces as fast as my shaky hands would allow.

Finally, I swung open the door. The cold morning air hit my face, shocking me fully awake. I started running. My footsteps echoed down the quiet hallway, fading out as I rushed toward the exit, hoping I wouldn’t be late for class again.

For this audio assignment, Sound Effects Story, the challenge was to tell a story using only sound effects with no words. I started with light sleeping breathing, followed by the loud alarm to signal panic. Then I added the rustle of blankets, a thud to show falling out of bed, slamming the alarm, footsteps running to the closet, the sliding closet door, frantic cloth rustling, closing the closet, putting on the clothes, heading to the backpack, the zipper, and shoes slipping on. Finally, the door opening and running footsteps fading out ended the audio with urgency and movement. Even something as simple as suddenly waking up can feel like a journey when you listen to the little moments layered like this together.

I woke up this morning to the quiet tapping of rain against my window. At first, I just lay there, staring at the ceiling and listening to it. It’s peaceful. But also a little sad. Why? Part of me wanted to stay under my blanket all day, but I had an early class at eight.

I slowly got up, changed into some warm clothes, and put on my gray rain jacket that I hadn’t worn since last semester. When I stepped outside, I started feeling more awake as the cold air made contact with me. I could hear the rain hitting the sidewalk and dripping off the bushes lined up next to the dorm entrance. It wasn’t pouring hard enough to feel miserable. It was enough to soak the ground and make the earthy soil smell strong and fresh. I pulled my hood over my head and started walking to class.

At that time, around 7:40 in the morning, the campus was still half asleep. There weren’t many people outside yet. It’s one of the nice parts of waking up early, I guess. I could hear the soft sounds of tree leaves swaying in the wind and the only footsteps I heard were my own. I was careful of splashing through the small puddles that were already starting to form. I dislike wet socks.

As I walked further, I walked by the small stone fountain. Even though the rain was falling, the fountain still made its own quiet sound. The combination of the rain and the fountain water felt kind of comforting. It was noise to help me focus on just existing in that moment. I found myself standing still for a second before proceeding. Then a thought crossed my mind. Did you know? Walking on a clear day feels different than walking in the rain. That’s because you won’t get wet.

The sound of cars driving by in the distance seemed more… noticeable. Even though I was still feeling a little tired, something about that morning walk early in the day made me feel… good, I guess.

For this audio assignment, Create a Place, I wanted to recreate the feeling of that morning walk to class. I started with a base layer of gentle rainfall to represent the steady rain that morning. Then, I added the sound of footsteps on wet pavement, making sure they were paced calmly to match how I was walking slowly, just taking in the moment. I layered in the quiet bubbling of a small fountain. Finally, I added a distant sound of a car driving by to give it that sense of early morning quietness with a reminder that the world was still waking up. I wanted these sounds to create a place that felt calm, just like how I felt during that walk. It’s easy to think of rainy days as gloomy, but sometimes they remind me to slow down and just be present with myself.