What It Felt Like to Be on the Other Side of the Microphone

 

 

I have spent nearly a decade walking into hospital rooms with a guitar.  I know what it feels like to provide music to someone at their most vulnerable.  I know the silence before the first note.  I know the moment when a patient's breathing changes, when their shoulders drop, when the room shifts.

 

I have been in front of a microphone twice before.  But this time was different.  Those previous times, I was contributing to someone else's vision.  This time, the microphone was pointed at me as the creator — this was my music, my project, my responsibility to bring something worthy into that room.  That weight is something I had not fully anticipated.

 

On May 31st, I found out.

 

The founding recording sessions for Acoustic Healing are now complete.  Two sessions at New Dawn Studios in Monterey.  Four musicians.  All certified therapeutic musicians.  All bringing something from the bedside into the studio that no amount of technical skill alone could have put there.

 

Mary Superak arrived on May 17th with more than half a dozen North American Flutes — each one carrying its own distinct voice.  From her very first note, I had chills.  What she brought into that room was ethereal.  Spiritual.  As beautiful as the call of an owl in the dark of the night.  I felt it deep in my core from first note to last.

 

When Julia Bartles Emahiser set her Cello in place, it had a regal presence before she played a single note.  When she drew the bow across the strings, I got choked up.  I stayed that way, off and on, through her entire session.  She filled the room with love — and then added silence to let it sink in.  It was more beautiful than I had imagined.

 

May 31st was different.  Vivian Sarubbi's touch on the harp brought a warmth that drew me in immediately — love expressed through every note, every intentional phrase.  And the session had its challenges.  Planes.  A harp that slipped out of tune at exactly the wrong moment.  A tuner that went uncooperative.  We paused.  We waited.  And then she played again.

 

When my turn came in the afternoon, I was not as prepared as I wanted to be.  That is the honest truth.  Building this project has taken more time than I anticipated, and the hours I should have spent in deeper practice went elsewhere.  I was tense stepping into the room.

 

But the crew at New Dawn — Bill, Tricia, and their team — never once made me feel rushed.  Their patience is a gift I will not forget.

 

And somewhere in the middle of it, something loosened.  I stopped thinking about the recording and started playing.  And then a thought came that I had not prepared for: this is actually happening.  Nine years of corridors, of bedsides, of believing this music belonged somewhere beyond the moment it was offered — it was no longer a belief.  It was real.

 

I listened to a sampling before I left.  Vivian's harp.  My guitar.  Rich.  Full.  I could not have asked for more.

 

The editing begins now.  For those of you who know the work, you know this is where the magic of the studio takes over.  It will take the time it needs.  I am content to wait.

 

More to come.

 

David E Villareal, RPh, CCM

Founder, Acoustic Healing

 

🍸 www.acoustichealing.music

🌐 www.thetherapeuticguitarist.com

💼 www.linkedin.com/in/david-villareal-rph-ccm-35963819

🏢 www.linkedin.com/company/acoustic-healing


 

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