I was submerged in a pitch-black tank in a cell at The Ridges. Floating on water filled with 1,000 pounds of salt, I could sense little but the slight warmth of the water. There were no sounds but a distant humming. It was a peaceful coffin, free from the outside world. I was able for the first time since childhood to stare in the nothingness above, hoping to form pictures with my mind out of the air.
But I had never felt so constricted in my life.
A typical walk to work or class usually includes a cell phone pressed to my ear. And if there's no one I want or need to talk to, I am smoking a cigarette or sipping hot coffee. Usually all three. Sometimes I listen to music. Anything to avoid listening to my own thoughts. I generally notice everything - my reflection in store windows, gum wrappers and passers-by with a similar concentration level.
I am just another bird, free among a polluted sky, a fish in a sea of stimuli.
Graduate student Joe Meiser sought to shake that frame of mind when he started crafting a sensory deprivation chamber in 2004. The sculpture student wanted to use the philosophical teachings of Buddhism and other schools of thought to phase out the outer body and learn to exist in one's mind.
When I first did an article on Meiser on Jan. 19, 2005, he was constructing the chamber, which eventually cost about $2,000 to build and was paid for with loans, he said. His professors spoke highly of the endeavor. As an artistic work, it stands out as intricately designed, scientifically as well as artistically. Aesthetically, it is rather intimidating, in my opinion - quite awe-inspiring.
Standing in a cell amid studios in the underbelly of the art community, I was a little nervous, especially with the possibility of being photographed in my bathing suit by the Post photographer. As I was ready to enter the tank, a machine buzzed loudly, pumping oxygen into the tank. I wimped out and decided to go in only for about 30 minutes.
Before entering the tank, I first showered to get rid of dead skin cells. Meiser also cleans the tank using a pool-cleaning net and plenty of hydrogen peroxide, which lined the floor in brown bottles. Several people have tried the apparatus and Meiser uses it himself - working up to longer and longer meditations that he described as similar to near-death experiences.
Many artists use sensory deprivation chambers to assist them in the creative process. While Meiser built his, they can be bought. The Samadhi Tank Company was the first to market them in 1972. Last year when I spoke to the owner from a busy newsroom, she immediately said, It sounds like you could use a sensory deprivation chamber.
It is no surprise to me that the National Institute of Mental Health manufactured the first tanks in the '50s. What does surprise me is that we even mentally survive in 2005 with so many stimuli constantly firing at us.
What is truly constricting is the stimuli. I lay in the tank, floating half in a state of dreams, realizing that I didn't know how to react without a ringing, clicking newsroom. I was relaxed and calm, thinking, Man
I need a cigarette.
- Ellie Behling is a senior journalism major and The Post's culture editor. Send her an e-mail at eb670703@ohiou.edu. 17
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Joe Meiser, a graduate student in the School of Art, built this sensory depravation chamber, which cost nearly $2,000.
