At some point during my childhood, I realized that I had an inordinate fondness for voices. Certain people would speak, and I would find myself lulled into a blissful, anodyne trance. I first noticed it while watching Bob Ross on TV, that hippie painter with the red afro on PBS’s “Joy of Painting.” I must have been eight or nine.
My dad and sister also liked the show, but for different reasons—my dad because he painted and my sister probably because she was preternaturally aware, even at the tender age of ten or eleven, of Bob’s ironic cult-figure potential. In any case, he and she would talk during the show, which drove me batty, as it obscured The Voice and made it impossible for me to lose myself in it. They particularly liked to comment on how Bob made it look so easy or to make jokes about his New Age encouragement (e.g., “There are no mistakes, only happy accidents” and “You decide, it’s your painting, you decide where this tree lives”) and then I would have to flash them my most dire of faces and shush them. Strict silence was to be observed when Bob was on the tube.
Later, and luckily, I realized that Bob wasn’t the only one with The Voice. Sometimes I would be listening to my piano teacher as she told me about Brahms or about how I had to pay more attention to my pianissimos and I’d start to get the feeling. Then I knew I was in its presence. But how can I describe it? The quality is so hard to pin down in words—I could say that there is a moist hush or dreamy gloss to it, but that hardly approaches its essence. In actual fact, I can only know I am in the presence of The Voice by my physical reaction. In other words, like most fetishes, The Voice is categorically specific to me and my experience of it. It is visceral and unquantifiable; it operates beyond intellectual access at a subliminal level.
But sadly for me, The Voice is rare—very rare. In my three decades on this earth, I have probably only heard it a handful of times. But unlike other fetishes, which I assume are consistent (i.e., a foot fetishist would consistently be aroused by a particular foot), The Voice, as far as I can tell, is elusive and inconsistent in people. Sometimes they’ll have it and sometimes they won’t. I’ve known only one other person in the world, I think, besides Bob Ross, who seemed to possess The Voice all the time. His name was Duncan. I don’t even remember his last name anymore.
Duncan was the student manager of the basement rec room in my residential college, where I worked as a freshman. He assigned our shifts. These were probably the easiest, most coveted jobs on campus. All you had to do was sit in the rec room for a few hours and make sure no one stole the chalk from the pool table. Once a week, Duncan would call to give us our schedules and report any problems that had happened the week before (soda in the remote control, students making out on the couches, etc.).
Needless to say, I looked forward to these calls. Sometimes I’d call him back to change my shift for no other reason than to hear him talk. He had this slow, subdued Southern drawl that might as well have been crack. If he called when I wasn’t around, it was even better. Then I could save the message as long as voicemail would allow and play it on repeat like the total addict I was.
Occasionally I’d get back to my room and my one roommate who knew would look at me pointedly and say with utter gravitas, “Duncan called.” I’d skip a breath. “He did?” Then we’d break out laughing. “Do you hear it now?” I’d ask her, hopeful. She’d pause, biting her lip. I could tell she wanted to lie and make me feel less alone in my singularity, but she knew it would have been too cruel to fake it. “No, I’m sorry,” she’d say meekly. And then, as consolation, she’d add, “He has a nice voice though…”
Not the point! Did the hairs on your neck stand up? Did you feel your head empty and your heart bloom? Nobody understood. I was like a woman who’d seen a UFO in some open field.
To fetishize something is to take it out of its normal context and to appraise it at a value higher than it would seem to have. I read this on Nerve.com once. The development of fetishes, according to most experts, is traceable to a first “accident” in which sexual feelings first arose. This Freudian approach seems plausible on the face of it, though perhaps too easy or convenient. It would argue, for instance, that, if the first time you felt aroused, your partner was wearing high heels, it may well explain a later, adult foot or shoe fetish. Or, if your first sexual experience took place behind the bushes in a park, you may in adulthood become unusually drawn to having sex outdoors. In Lolita, Humbert Humbert confesses that “there might have been no Lolita at all” had he not long ago loved her precursor, his childhood girlfriend Annabel. It was because the precursor died prematurely of typhoid in Corfu, while Humbert Humbert was still in love with her, that he forever became enamored of girl-children, or nymphets.
But what if the fetish is triggering some other facet of self? Does this theory also hold for cases in which the appraisal is not sexual in nature? In my case, it would seem that The Voice inspires more feelings of reverence and peace than it does feelings of eros. If anything, it is spiritual, not sexual. Was Bob Ross the first person to elicit such feelings in me? And therefore, was he the precursor to Duncan? Or did Bob too have a precursor, once in a princedom by the sea?
When I think about it now, it’s ironic that Bob’s voice stood in opposition to all that I hated about Sundays. I was raised Mormon—and was resistant to its teachings and its culture from day one. I had an intuitive sense as a child that it was intrusive and strange. I disliked talking about my relationship to Jesus—I wasn’t aware I had one—and to my family, and it was difficult to understand why my parents had chosen this particular church to begin with. It ran so counter to the Confucian culture of our household, not only because Mormons aren't supposed to drink tea (we did anyway), but because the church was endlessly emphatic about verbalizing feelings, love, and faith. How is your testimony? Do you have a strong testimony? Is your testimony getting stronger? Whenever someone in the church asked me this, some voice in my head would want to scream, “What are you talking about? It’s none of your business. Plus, I don’t have one! I don’t want to have one!” As far as I could glean from the way my family interacted, Chinese families did not talk about their feelings, they did not say “I love you,” and they certainly didn’t ask other people to do so. The most important, most unbreakable bonds were assumed. They were understood. You didn’t have to talk about them out loud. In fact, talking about them out loud seemed vulgar, cheap. Essentially, in one area of my life, I wasn’t supposed to talk about my feelings, and in another, I was supposed to talk about feelings I didn’t have.
What was worse, there were no role models in church, no one to identify with. Only men could hold the priesthood, so women were drilled from early ages that motherhood was their highest calling. In sacrament meetings, I watched young, haggard mothers struggle to keep their brood quiet with stuffed animals and Tupperwares of Cheerios. I watched the boys from my Sunday school class bless and pass out the sacrament and I watched the leaders of the church sit behind the podium. On testimony Sundays, when others—even children—were feeling moved enough by the spirit to get up to the podium to share their testimonies, I was mostly feeling a profound desire to hide. I never felt as much relief as I did when I’d get home from church, pull off my tights and dress, put my regular clothes back on, and read books that didn’t say “And it came to pass…”
But the few times I enjoyed being in church was when someone would give a simple prayer—not a long, elaborate one in front of the whole congregation, but a simple, quick one over food or a sick person. Those were the moments I did feel reverence and spirituality, an ineffable connection to others and to something outside of the knowable.
I can only theorize now that hearing Bob Ross’ voice after getting out of church was a replicate of that experience and sensation, but without the attendant burden of doctrine. Perhaps because of the frame of mind I was in—relief, return—his voice, soft and lovely in its own right, may have taken on some higher, otherworldly quality, because I did want to believe in something other than the secular world—I just didn’t have access to it yet. His voice became like a prayer in itself, an om, full of all of the universe’s benevolent vibrations—and none of the world’s demands.
Bob Ross died a few years ago of cancer. Knowing how I felt about him, a friend of mine in grad school, who shared my affinity for the unusually good-natured painter, gave me his VHS of the highlights of “Joy of Painting,” so I could better bear the loss. It was a good video. But Duncan? Oh, why hadn’t I acted when I’d had the chance—at least to remember his last name? Those messages are lost forever.
Your page on “The Voice” of Bob Ross was excellent, showing outstanding writing ability. I also share your feelings. I'm glad to have “stumbled” across your Web site. Blessings...
This whole thing about The Voice reminds me of this weird fetish I've had for yours where I like to watch people eat or drink. I'm not sure what it is about it — the noise, the pleasure the people derive from it — but it makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and a shiver runs through my entire skull. No joke. And, like your Voice fetish, it's not like just any eater or drinker gives me that buzz. Too bad, but then, it would lose much of its appeal if that's all it took. I am really enjoying your writings, Debbie, looking forward to your reading next month.
wow- this is amazing. I watch Bob ross on youtube on a regular basis, and i too, have only known a few people with the voice. And yes, people don't know what it's about, but it's the best feeling in the world. You get a weird numbness in your stomach, and it's like someone is shooting you full of heroine. Your whole body feels utterly relaxed, because you are where you want to be. I found your passage, because i've been typing on google, entries such as “relaxing voices”, trying to find another voice like bobs, and possibly a way to categorize this fetish, as you call it, but the best I can do is go to the library and find audio books, hoping that I'll get something.
You're not alone, I had the exact same experience with Bob Ross as a child. But I had the added hurdle of having a PBS station that played Joy of Painting only on random times on the weekends. His voice still has the same lulling effect on me, but I found that I can also get my fix by listening to someone fumble through their purse, water plants, or clean windows. Some of my college professors would occasionally get the Voice as well, which would make understanding the lectures a bit more difficult. I've also found that some people who can occasionally get the voice, can also give me massive headaches when I haven't gotten enough sleep.
Don't forget the mellifluous identification of colors like alizarin crimson and phthalo blue. I mean, come on, those names are excuses to pronounce them in the most sinuous, lulling voice ever.
I have to admit that my Ross fetish includes, beside his fro and the smoother-than-butter voice, the tapping of the fan brush, the swish swish of the sky being made.
And who can forget the perverse pleasure he took, every single time, in “beating the devil” out of his tools against the leg of his easel.
Oh wow, I am so glad that I found this! All my life (that I can remember) there have been certain people who's voices can put me into a trance. And it's not just voices for me, it's also hand movements, and sounds like fabric rustling. These things come and go, and it seems that if I seek out that trance like state, it wont come. Except Bob Ross's voice, it always does it. Sometimes I will be sitting in the library at school, and the sound/sight of someone flipping through a book will send those shivers down my spine.
If any of you have found audio books/videos that do this for you, please post them!
I get this too, and it's so frustrating trying to find recordings of voices that can reproduce that feeling for me. I get a kind of prickly sensation on my scalp, and if the voice speaks for an extended period of time, it'll extended down my neck and lower back. I found a video on YouTube posted by a “SellerCentral” that gives me the sensation, it's about 10 minutes long and it genuinely works for me. I hope to find other videos and recordings eventually. It's so difficult to research on the Internet, because I don't know anyone else who gets the same effects from hearing others speaking that I do.
I always felt alone on these shooting voices (because frankly, I am really shy of it: nobody but my girlfriend knows and it took me 2 years to tell her)
To see that there are so many people in that case is comforting (and at the same time logical)
Anyway I thought some of you perverts (joke) might like to discover the voice of the french channel 7 her name is Sylvie Caspar and I believe she might be as shooting as Bob Ross for some people.
(the problem is, does it work when you don't understand the language?)
http://www.arteradio.com/tu... (look for sylvie la voix d'arte)
Sylvie Caspar works for me, chandler bing, thank you! SellerCentral (from Youtube) is still the only lengthy recording I have that really works for me though, I wouldn't know what to search for on Google or in a library, so it's usually by chance that I come across these things. It would be good if anybody reading this, and experiences similar sensations, would get in touch.
Hi people,
I just stubmled upon this topic and I have the same trance sensation when watching bob ross or listening to similar “trance” voices. I even found a new youtube vid that does the same for me. It's a kid making his own cardboard weapons based on the game Halo. kind of nerdy and akward, but the voice and way he shows stuff gives that kind of addicting trance feeling u were talking about. I just watch it once in a while to relax and enjoy that kind of trance. Check it out here:
http://www.youtube.com/watc...
Peter Goodwin — find the bookbinding videos on Youtube. Watch them once or twice a week for the Bob Ross effect.
This is stunning - just to read you people, writing about something that I've experienced all my life, yet never understood.
For me, it's not just the Bob Ross voice. Sometimes I'm in the subway station, waiting for the train, and the cleaner comes in and starts wiping the floor. And just to look and hear those brushing movements... I could sit there for hours.
Amazing.
I really wish there was some sort of website that could archive these sorts of voices.
The first time I experienced The Voice was when watching Bob Ross, and then later with my dentist as a middle school student. Anything he said would make the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
More recently I found a guy named Kyran Dale with The Voice on a site that has Python tutorial screencasts. There are 5 videos here:
http://showmedo.com/videotu...
The Voice.. Huh, I've never been able to put my finger on it. But this just sums it up perfectly.
Somehow I figured I wasn't the only one in the world with a strange fixation for voices and sounds, but I've never even though about looking it up. Funny that I stumbled in here by accident when googeling for painters..
Even now when im typing this it dawns on me that my decade old internet alias is quite...Ironic.
Also, I thought I'd go with the flow and share my latest “Voice find” that I came across while searching for bow lessons:
http://www.youtube.com/watc...
What a brilliant article, I visit you tube obsessively searching for Voices but as you said sometimes people have the voice, sometimes they don't. The only person I've found who consistently has it is a massage therapist called Lita I found on youtube. This could be a mixture of her voice and her massage though as I also have a fetish for watching massage especially reflexology! Glad to know I'm not alone in this strange obsession
And magicAccent, I came across the exact same video whilst looking for lessons and it had the same effect on me!!
I remember seeing Bob Ross on TV, but I don't remember his voice having that effect on me. I do, however, remember very vividly the first time I heard Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This) as it was probably the occasion I discovered The Voice. Annie Lennox doesn't really “hit the spot” anymore though.
I have come across The Voice elsewhere though, but rarely anyone has it all the time... there are only certain individuals with the ability to “conjure” The Voice up when they speak in a specific way or language. There was a guy in my school with The Voice and I tried telling him about it, but I probably only ended up freaking him out. It's both funny and sad.
Lately I've been drowning myself in music, more or less, trying to find that blissful state voices/noises can give me. Occasionally it works.
this is unbelievable i have been trying to explain this to my friends for years and no one understands, i get it too with certain voices, it is the most serene beautiful feeling, its not what they say just the way they speak, there is an audio book of noam chomsky with him reading an introduction i must have listened to it about 500 times cuz it gives me that yummy feeling, and people leafing through books or magazines can do it too sometimes and people making things out of paper or cardboard
I never tried to explain this to anybody, afraid they'd think I'm weird. I'm glad I'm not the only one. I'm looking for a website or online radio stations that would offer this type of relaxation. Thank you for posting your story.
I can't believe I just found this site! “The Voice Trance” as I call it just happened to me - a woman left a message on my answering machine and her voice did that to me. I decided to google this weird phenomenon and found this! How wonderful to know that I am not alone. I have experienced this since I was a little kid and I too loved watching that painting guy just to hear his voice and be lulled into that wonderful trance state. I also had an 8th grade teacher with a voice that could sometimes cause it. It is really an enjoyable feeling and I hate “coming out” of it. Wonder what the neurological basis for it is. Thanks for sharing and letting me know that there are others out there who understand this wonderful feeling!
Pretty much “ditto” to everything mentioned above. Always assumed it was just me since everyone else seemed unaffected when i was. It can be quite disruptive in some cases when, for instance, you're trying desperately to concentrate on a class whose lecturer has “the voice”. I thought i'd add this video to the collection which i've watched more times than i care to remember.
http://www.youtube.com/watc...
I too discovered Bob Ross' voice to be trance like and would get the tingling sensation on my scalp and down my neck. A couple people will hit the voice every once in a while but it's hard to find someone consistent like Mr. Ross. I have discovered two voices that come close to Bob. Mother Angelica who was a Nun on EWTN (a catholic channel that shares time with another channel here locally). She would do a show (Religious Catalogue)that showcased all the religious items that the channel sold and that would do it for me. Unfortunately she passed away a few years back. Ina Garten from the show “Barefoot Contessa” on Food Network will do it too, but the random music and blender noises cancel out her voice.
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