‘K … R …’ said the nursemaid, and Septimus heard her say ‘Kay Arr’ close to his ear, deeply, softly, like a mellow organ, but with a roughness in her voice like a grasshopper’s, which rasped his spine deliciously and sent running up into his brain waves of sound which, concussing, broke.
—Virginia Woolf, Mrs Dalloway

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Digital Intimacy and the Aestheticisation of Sound

Dženana Vucic

Autumn 2020

Embrace Australia’s finest writers

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Embrace Australia’s finest writers

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